faltou eletricidade. quando suas partículas entraram em contato com as minhas, faltou química. faltou o estalo do encontro. algum canto seu se desencontrou com o meu e nós tomamos rotas contrárias. quis olhar pros teus olhos e enxergar um oceano inteiro me chamando pra dentro e só vi sua púpila castanha se dilatando com o nosso reflexo nas tuas retinas. somos fruto do inesperado, mas o que era pra ser surpresa se tornou tão óbvio quando seus dedos encostaram nos meus. seus olhos buscam sempre me compreender quando eu só quero estar. agora. só. quieta. amanhã eu não sei. você diz que eu sou sua razão e meus cílios estremecem. você começa a planejar um infinito e eu te calo com um beijo ou dois porque eu não quero ser a dona de nada. o incerto é tão mais bonito. eu sempre quero te dizer milhares de coisas mas me calo porque você não entenderia. e você pensa que é porque me faltam palavras, mas elas sempre me sobram. e diz que o que tem no fundo dos meus olhos é bonito. e diz que a cor que pinta meu sorriso é azul. mas não consegue enxergar os cômodos desarrumados, o eco, o oco, o caos.
e isso dói, entende?
porque eu te abro a vista pro mundo enquanto você é só uma janela pra mim.
everyone on here seems to love shadowhunters and i watched the first episode and i just… it seems really boring with unnecessary love interests in the first five fucking minutes, the effects are really bad and the acting is god awful
I read your DMB letter and was strongly reminded of myself at 13. See at the age of 13 I was getting to grips with my sexuality, self-harming, was onto my 3rd therapist, had attempted “/that/”, had (and still do) a load of illnesses and was being abused by my step-dad (a story for another time). At that time I too thought I was worthless and a burden to everyone around me. I too thought that it was fucked up that I was 13 and having to see ever more specialised therapists to deal with my issues. But let me tell you something; its not! You would be surprised at just how many young teenagers need some help with their mental health; puberty is a tumultuous thing at the best of times.
Now seeing as you revealed your name, its only polite that I do to. I am Mathew, I’m 21 now and although my life isn’t perfect, its a hell of a lot better than it was. Now I can assure you that it does get better, however there is a caveat to that. You will at times get swallowed back into that black cloud where all your demons lie, but my advice is simple; keep fighting. I would say my depression (clinically sever depression) started when I was 11 and I have been fighting ever since. You have to be stubborn and never give in, because believe me life gets a whole lot better down the line. Whenever you feel those demons creeping up on you, fight back, refuse to give in and when it all gets too much make sure you have someone to turn to, to remind you that you are loved and cared for.
Now on the topic of therapy, its always going to seem a little strange that you need it when so many others do. But you have to forget about everyone else and grab hold of any help you can to deal with you problems. I was hugely reluctant to go onto antidepressants and I put that off for 8 years before I finally accepted that I need them. But I wish I hadn’t, if I had had that help earlier on in my life I may have been able to deal with other stuff more effectively. If others judge you for being on them or for therapy, they are not worth your time. At the end of the day you have to think about what is best for you. What is going to help you and what will make you happy.
But after all I have just said my main message is this; mental health issues are incredibly common (more than you might think) and self-harm, although it is talked about very little is quite common among teenagers. So don’t go thinking you are a freak or that you are fucked up because you need this help. You are not! If nobody else had these issues the help wouldn’t be there in the first place.
Finally and most of all this letter was just to show you that even I (A random stranger on the internet), love and care for you. My advice is my own and I have told you a part of my story in the hopes that it will help you. I truly hope it does.
I have a cousin named Benjamin. I don’t see him much, but he’s the sweetest child you could ever meet. He likes to share his candy and he’s pretty good at bingo. He has a little sister. He’s quiet and maybe a little shy, but he’s friendly and when he warms up to you, he’s funny too. I like hearing about people I share my name with, so I thought you might like that too.
My name is Alicia, I’m eighteen years old, and as you said, a recovering self harmer. You’re the same age as my little sister. Maybe that’s what drew me to your letter in the first place, but after I read it, I dropped everything I was doing to write up a reply.
I’m home-schooled. Or, I was. I’ve graduated now. My best friends are a girl I met online at the age of twelve, a girl I’ve known for two years now that is gorgeous enough to be Miss Universe but she doesn’t see it, and my thirteen year old sister. I’ve never had a girlfriend or a boyfriend. (Try not worry about poisoning your ray of sunshine with your illnesses. I don’t think she would want you to, I know I wouldn’t. And, between you and me, I don’t think that’s possible in the least. She has the power to cure you or to at least make things easier for you, but I don’t believe that you have the power to poison her. These things aren’t contagious. You can’t catch them like a cold.)
The chances are, Emma is sad. Maybe you don’t know it, maybe she doesn’t even know it, really, but deep down, she’s sad. People can’t be that mean to other people and not feel something. That doesn’t excuse her. Sadness isn’t an excuse to make other people feel worthless or to ever, ever tell someone to kill themselves. I am sorry that she’s such a toxic person to be around. I hope that she leaves you alone soon, or you are able to find peace with her and not let her words get to you. But this Emma, what she’s saying to you, I’m willing to bet, are reflections of what she thinks about herself, what she wants to say to herself. It’s not fair that you’ve became her outlet, and I hope that she finds something else to turn to so she can leave you alone. Maybe she’ll write some letters, get it out of her system.
I think it’s really cool that you study Latin. I’ve always wanted to learn both French and Spanish, but I don’t have the patience or energy to learn them. So I applaud you for that. Twenty One Pilots are awesome. I’ve never listened to Metric and never gotten into anime, but those are the kind of things that a really cool person would like. You seem really cool.
Sometimes I wonder if I’m depressed, but I have my moments. Some days I couldn’t be happier or more content, I feel like life could not be better. But then nothing changes and I always find myself hitting a low, several times a month. I don’t know what to do about it, but it’s not really, really bad, so I’ve never mentioned it to anyone. I don’t lash out all that much at people but I shut them out, I cut them off and I’m cold, and I know that guilt is an awful feeling. But everyone does it. Everyone has times where they treat the people they care about ways that they shouldn’t. It doesn’t make you a bad person and if you pay attention, the same people you lash out at probably lash out at you too, when they’re having bad days. You just forget about it, because it’s not a huge deal. And they probably forget about the times you lash out too. If they don’t understand, you deserve better.
I have very few scars. I have five thin lines, I think, that I can see if I try really hard. It makes me feel like what I went through wasn’t real. It makes me feel like I never hurt myself enough to say that I harmed myself. But I did, and you did too. Don’t erase that past. It happened and it’s real, it’s very real, and that doesn’t make you any less of a fighter.
I don’t know when I stopped self harming the last time. I wish I did, because then I could say how many days I have been clean, but I guess I’ll live the rest of my life not knowing. That’s weird. I wish I knew.
It isn’t weird, it isn’t abnormal, and it most definitely isn’t fucked up that you’re seeing a therapist. What would be fucked up would be you not trying.
Trying is the most important part. It’s hard to be nice to yourself. It’s hard to love yourself. It’s taken me a long time to realize that I have to be my own friend, that I’m a good person and I deserve good things. It’s hard because you feel like you’re lying to yourself and you feel like you don’t have the right to be confident because there are people that aren’t. But you have the right to feel any way that you want to feel and it’s valid. You are a wonderful person, I can tell off of the handful of paragraphs I read, and I believe one day, you will be able to see that too. I truly do.
I’m scared of a lot of things too. Spiders, driving, emptiness, guns, car wrecks, fire, disappointment and being alone, to name a few. I think everyone has a lot of fears, even fears deep down that they don’t know about. I’ve realized a lot of new fears I have over just the past few years, but I’ve also gotten over a few fears. Like needles. I used to be so scared of needles that I wanted to cry thinking about them. And snakes. And being put under anesthesia. But those things don’t bother me anymore. Neither does the idea of infinity. So things change, and it’s terrifying, but it’s also good.
Staying strong is really hard. People don’t realize it. And self harm is an addiction. Even when I’m not feeling sad or angry with myself, I still want to go back to old habits. It’s a craving. But it’s more satisfying to be able to say that you didn’t do it, that you didn’t break. Don’t try to stay strong for other people. It won’t work that way. I know, because I’ve tried. You have to decide that you want to stay strong for yourself. Only then can you make a difference. Only then can you care about your progress. (And from the sounds of it, you do. You seem really excited, and that makes me happy. You have every right to be. I’m proud of you.)
I would not tell you the things you wanted to hear if I didn’t believe what I was saying– er, writing? I don’t like lying. I’m not any good at it. But I will say that I don’t think you’re weird at all. Not in a bad way. Weird to me is just another word for unique, different, and to me, weird equals good. So you’re not weird in a bad way. But I’m sure you’re weird in all the best ways. (It’s a little hard to tell everything off of one letter.)
You have done well. You’ve made a lot of progress that you should be proud of. I’m happy for you. I just hope that you’re happy for you, too.
I’m going to send this letter in about five times and cross my fingers, just to make sure it gets seen and posted. (So, sidenote, to Emily: I’m sorry about the inbox spam. Or, a lesson I have just learned from a wonderful stranger, instead of saying sorry, I should say thank you. So thank you, for putting up with my inbox spam.)
And now, before I leave you alone and let you go about your day; I’m not great at advice, but I will tell you this: Keep pushing forward. Even when you don’t want to. Even when you just want to lay in bed all day and stare at a wall. Take a break, take a breath, and then take another step. Even if it’s a step backwards, you’ll just take two steps forward next time. It’s okay. If you give up, you know what’s going to happen. But if you keep going, mysteries await you. Opportunities await you. The future awaits you.
You’re young. You have your whole life ahead of you. And it’s not going to be easy, and it’s not always going to be fun or even happy, but that’s not the point. The point is that you only have this one life to live, and it’s a roller coaster, and it’s messy and it’s horrible but it’s beautiful and wonderful too. Sometimes it’s hard to take because the balance doesn’t even out in the moment, or even a few moments. But that’s okay, because before everything is said and done, it will.
The future might seem like it takes a long time to get to us, but I promise, it’s worth the wait.
Tomorrow (Feb. 5th) would have marked eleven years as friends. But, honestly, I have no idea what we are, if we are at all. I said some things that maybe I shouldn’t have, and it’s been almost a year since I’ve heard from you. Are you alive? Are you okay? I miss you so much it brings me to tears. Write me, if you see this, please? I need to know you’re okay.
i dont know anyone personally whos a fan of the who but if you ever have an hour and a half spare please watch this. keep it bookmarked. its in my opinion their best performance and honest to god it would mean the world to me if youd watch it… theyre my favourite band i love this so much i cant put into words how much itd mean to me for any of you to watch this