A love letter to myself…

Dear you,

It’s me, the other half of you. How are you today? I know you didn’t make it out of bed this morning in time for class. I know that happens a lot, and I just wanted to see if you were doing okay. I had a feeling you were falling down a spiral and I’m just here to check in.

Today is a little harder than usual, isn’t it? I can hear your thoughts preying on your insecurities. I know it’s hard not to listen when they are convincing you that you are weak and aimless. They accuse you of being lazy when you are bone-weary and they submerge you in guilt for how you feel. They tell you that no matter how hard you try, you will still let everyone around you down. In your eyes, you will never be good enough.

These words swirl around your brain and they get bigger and bigger and bigger. They join in a never-ending circle, looping repeatedly, again and again until a wave of darkness knocks you down. You’re spiraling again.

Hang on. I’m swimming to you and I can feel you thrashing in fear. I can sense that looming pit of anxiety gnaw inside your stomach as your heart squeezes and then beats faster. You don’t know what’s happening around you. It seems like the walls are collapsing around you and you’re falling, deeper and deeper into the gaping mouth of blackness. Are you scared?

Thump. Your head is pounding with your whirlpool of thoughts and they threaten to break out of your skull. Thump. You submerge, dissociating under a tide of overwhelming despair. You’re wondering what dimension you’re in as the walls of the cave close in. Deep breaths, just keep your head above the water. It’s okay if you can’t find the words right now. Just focus on breathing.

No, you aren’t going crazy. No, I promise you’re not dying. You’re still here; I promise you are safe. You are real. Your spiral is not. Your thoughts are irrational. You are not.

The next wave of panic is rising. Come, grab onto my hand. I won’t let you drown alone. Because I love you. I always will.

Yours,

Me