Most of us have been asked the same generic, bland question “if you could write a letter to your past self, what would you say”. And I know we’ve all given the same “don’t give up” answer every time, but what if we didn’t? What if we took the time to really ponder a question so simple yet thought provoking? I think it’d go something like this.

It started didn’t it? You know what I’m talking about; the constant overthinking of anything and everything to the point where it feels like your mind isn’t yours to control. Whether it’s why dad left, or why she didn’t text you back as fast as she did the text before. It doesn’t matter does it? It all feels the same, body numbing and pointless; pondering your seemingly pointless life. You ask yourself why? Why do I sit in bed alone and weep for those who couldn’t care less whether I’m weeping or rejoicing? Why will no one listen, understand or help? You think to yourself, “why do they hate me? Why do they disregard me? Why do they always leave? I must’ve done something wrong. I had to have done something undeniably evil to have deserved this”. Well, you did do something wrong. It was something you hadn’t any control over. Something they should’ve been happy about. You were born. I know that’s harsh, but it’s better for you to learn that now rather than later like I did. 

Now, I say this with the most unfathomable amount of disgust, frustration, and pain; I hate you. I hate you for who you are and what you did to me. I am not talking about the worthless excuse of a father that beat your mother and siblings, or the friends you cared for even when they told you you’d be better off dead. I’m talking to you. This planet is full of living garbage that reeks of disparity and hatred, and you are on top of it all. King of the world. Does that make you happy? To be the best at something so vulgar? I bet it does, no I know it does. Now, you sit there in utter shock, anger, maybe even disappointment. The hurtful truth is something I know all too well, perhaps if you realize that, you won’t end up like me. Just maybe. 

I apologize if that was too real I digress; wipe your tears my son, I have questions for you. Why did you have to care so much, so vigorously? Why did you love when love wasn’t deserved? Hate yourself when that love couldn’t reach? You tore me down like Kansas winds do to unknowing buildings with your disapproving comments. “eat more”. “love harder”. “stop crying you coward”. “I hope you fall asleep forever”. Like the shining moon, your spine chilling words controlled the tides of your future, my future. Now we slowly sink, like a stranded crew on a petite ship; first the unsettling realization, then panicked screams, bellowing anger, unforgiving sorrow, acceptance, then finally, complete silence. “This is true bliss”, you think to yourself. “Finally, is this the end, can I truly be happy now?”, you continue. In your final breathing moments on that pile of garbage you stand upon you are struck with a bolt of realization. You are going to die, but not just you, but also the ones’ love that you were blind to before now, the ones that truly care. You wonder how your mom will feel and act, “it’s all my fault, I’ve failed him” she mutters while your sister storms screaming out the chipped wooden door in  your run down Toledo apartment. In that moment nothing else mattered but them. Now you feel overwhelmed with regret. You wish you could rewind time, but it's not that easy. “Just one more chance” you think while slowly falling unconscious, taken by the fierce waves, hungry for your life. 

Silence. All of a sudden, you wake from what seemed to be a never ending nightmare. You sprint downstairs and see your mom and sister watching soap operas like they always do, and you can’t help but laugh. You laugh and laugh. They sit confused as you hug each of them tightly, they can’t help but laugh with. You are alive. You think to yourself, “that would’ve been the last decision of my tiresome life, and I couldn’t even do that right”. You thought that with a smile on your once stress-filled face. Because maybe some things are meant to be done right, and this was one of those times.

At this time, after all that you might think you decide to change your ways, but you don’t. You still are as loving and caring to others that don’t deserve such as you always have been. But this time something feels different. Like you were watered with new found hope and blossomed into a tree like a once decaying, helpless shrub. This time, with that love and care, came love and care for yourself. You were too busy worrying and stressing over others’ problems, that you never stopped to consider your own. You are severely depressed. You feel empty, and alone. But that’s okay, you’ve learned. Now it’s time to tell you what I came here to tell you in the first place. It doesn’t get better. It’s only gotten worse. The only difference is you found distractions. Distractions that make you feel whole. I won’t spoil what you find, but I will say they’re all pretty amazing. The only problem is, after the distractions stop distracting, you feel the same soul crushing sadness you’ve always felt, and always will. I know this letter might not be what you were hoping for, but I do have a point. That point is that in life, there is no such thing as true happiness, only happy moments, and you must cherish those moments to their core. Good people have the worst sadness because they get what they want by putting others first. You know I’m not one to believe in karma but as long as you keep loving yourself and others, the happy moments will keep sailing in; maybe one day they’ll stay for good.