A letter from November 8th, 2020

I'm not doing so well mentally so I'm writing this to vent. I'm not even sure if you'll be alive to read this letter but, if you are, I hope that the 2020s have been good for us, and I hope you're reading this as someone who is happy and enjoys life. That is currently not the case. I'm just very tired. Life was fun when I was little and didn't understand anything and the only worries I had were Year 6 SATs, but now it's a drain and I feel like a burden. I don't want to live anymore. I'm self-aware enough to know that I bring nothing but negativity into the world, and into the lives of the people I care about and those who care about me, but I don't know how to fix myself. I tried therapy but it was a waste of time because I wasn't ever honest. No matter what my therapist asked me, I'd always give the answer I thought she'd want to hear, which, more often than not, was a lie. She'd ask "how are you doing?", I'd say "pretty good". She'd ask "how are things at home?", I'd say "great". She'd ask "do you have any suicidal thoughts?", I'd say "no". All lies. I'm certain that my issues are far worse than just anxiety but I don't know what they are or how to fix them. I want to be better and do better but I don't know how, and I have no one in my life I can speak to about these things. In a moment of weakness, I told mum I went to therapy and she tried to sympathise but then she ended her speech by saying that it was all in my head, so that didn't help. Despite being a whole teacher to teenagers, I don't think my sister really understands mental health issues, so I can't really ever speak to her about anything. She's already condescending enough without me being open about my issues. I can't even complain to her about something as simple as doing chores without her using it as an opportunity to criticise me. It feels like every conversation we have these days ends with her insulting me in some way and I am simply unable to hide my irritation and that causes her to get angrier. So...that's fun. And dad, is dad. At the end of August, we got into a huge argument and I started crying because of it. I tried to hide that from him but he saw, and then proceeded to tell me that if I got married in the future, my husband would end up divorcing me, my kids would stop speaking to me, and I would die alone. Things just haven't really been the same between dad and I since then, I wonder why lol. On top of that, he's incredibly old-fashioned and I don't think he believes in anxiety and stuff either so that's just more of a reason about why I can't speak to him. I have a few friends. I've known most of them for years. You would expect that I'd be pretty close to them by now, especially the four/five I've known since year 7. I'm not. There's one that I used to feel like I could openly vent to about pretty much whatever, but I started doing it too much during the lockdown because that's when things really escalated for me as I was trapped in the house with my family. Because of this, I now rarely bother her with my pointless rants as I'm sure she's tired of me. Not to mention, she also has issues of her own that she's been open with me about, so I know for certain that me piling on her all the time is very draining for her, but she's just too nice to tell me to stop. I have another friend who I used to rant to about the smaller things, such as petty issues with my social anxiety, but once again, I felt like I started doing it too much so I've also stopped bothering her. As for the secondary school friends, I like most of them a lot (one of them isn't even really my friend lol) but I don't think I'll ever feel close enough to them to tell them personal details about my life without feeling judged or embarrassed. To this day, I get scared to send them random, casual messages like "hey!", so opening up about my vulnerabilities is just a big NO. Aaaannd, I don't have any uni friends lol. Dying seems like such a good option for me because I really don't see any other way out. To quote a reddit post that inspired me to write this letter, "I feel like I'll never reach peace. I'm constantly at war with my own mind and it's all so so tiring". However, I guess the fact that I'm even writing this letter is an indication that my suicide isn't imminent. It /is/ always a lingering thought in the back of my mind though, and right now I'm not sure if I want that thought to go away or to just push me over the edge. Anyways, if you're reading this, you will be 24. Done with uni (probably) and hopefully in a job (and even more hopefully, in a job you enjoy). I'm not really sure what the point of this letter is. I don't think there is one. I guess if you're reading it, it means you didn't let the bad thoughts win, and that's a good thing. I hope you've managed to fix your issues because you're a smart girl and you have/had a lot of potential. I hope that the girl writing this letter didn't ruin that potential, and I hope that the girl reading this letter doesn't let it go to waste. I hope that you've found people that make you feel comfortable and happy, and I hope that you don't lose them. I hope that you've been able to fix your weak relationships with your family and I hope that you don't think they hate you. I have so many hopes for the future but life has shown me time and time again that being optimistic is setting yourself up for disappointment and failure. I hope that in these last five years, you proved life wrong. I hope that you didn't give up.