Find a thing to hold on to. A thing that makes you feel good. Hold on to me if you need to; I’ve been there. I believe in you.
Same person, Summer. I just…I actually have a blog for this stuff. There are people who follow me on my main blog who don’t know, and I don’t want them to know. I honestly didn’t expect anyone to see this, or take it seriously.
It seems like everyone’s been there and believes in me and cares about me. But no one’s still there. Or there again, like I am. How am I supposed to be convinced that I’m strong if everyone I know has moved on from this and I still haven’t?
Shhh. Shhhhh. I don’t know about moving on. I haven’t ‘moved on’. I’m still depressed. I’ll be this way for as long as I live, and that’s a terrible thing to face. Especially at your age. Or my age, for that matter.
I don’t know enough about what is going on right now for you to be able to say words that might really be able to help. From here, right now, all I can do is continue to say, I see. I see you, I see your struggle, even if I don’t always have the chance to say it I believe in you. I’m here. I’m thinking of you.
I’m there, in that dark place, with you. It’s hard to get out of bed; it’s hard to face the world.
I — in text, it’s really hard for me to be able to persuade you. Even a little. That I have, and I do, walk that path. Every day, the medicines. Every week, every month, the therapist.
Two years and two months ago, I tried to kill myself. Tried hard enough that I spent four days in a mental hospital. I KNOW where you are.
Don’t let people tell you that because you aren’t ‘better’, by their definition, that you aren’t strong. Strong is the simple act, in our cases, of getting up at all. Of putting clothes on. Of typing even a short message, good or bad, anywhere. You are strong, because you posted that at all, and because you picked up my reply. Because you were willing to even say to me, whom you know so little about, that you were hurting.
That IS strength. Don’t let people tell you differently. They haven’t been here, they can’t know. No matter how much they might want to, even.
You hold to me. I can’t promise to /always/ always be right here, but I can promise that I will always look for you, and if I don’t see you in a few days, I’ll check. And I’ll be thinking of you.