I’m in a good place right now, but I know that at any time that can change,
So I wanted to make a few notes to myself, and for anyone else that may need them.

Note to self #1
Beauty standards are *******.
You’re beautiful, and it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.
You can’t be “too” anything.
Too short- False
Too tall- Incorrect
Too fat- No
Too skinny- Wrong
Too light- Untrue
Too dark- Not possible
Whatever you are is perfect.
Don’t let anyone tell you different. They’re wrong.

Note to self #2
You’re not a burden.
If you’re struggling, talk to someone.
Talk to your counselor, that’s what he’s there for.
Talk to your friends, you’d help them if they came to you for something, they’ll do the same for you.
Talk to your parents, they want to know if you’re hurting so they can help you.
Talk to your sisters, they’ve gone through the same things that you’re going through right now.
Talk to anyone. It helps.

Note to self #3
There’s nothing wrong with you.
Don’t feel that you have no reason to be depressed because you didn’t “go through what others did”.
You are valid.
You are real.
Your problems aren’t abnormal.
People understand. No one thinks you’re faking it for attention.

Note to self #4
I love you!
I know that you may be reading this now because you’re hurting,
So I want to tell you that everything will be okay.
The pain comes and goes.
It flows like an ocean does, rising and falling.
There were really only two things guaranteed when you entered this life:
Death, and change.
So instead of ending it all now,
Why not wait for the next wave of change?

Note to self #5
You can do this.
You’re strong,
You’re beautiful,
You’re smart,
And you’re full of potential.
But most importantly,
You’re you.
And that’s all you need to be.

I remember one of my favorite authors said in a book,
“Depression has been likened to both a black cloud and a black dog”.
But I also feel that if that black cloud of depression has been looming around you for long enough, it can take the form of another thing, you.
This other person follows me around everywhere, they take the form of me and they become me.
But it’s not me.
But nobody seems to be able to tell.

When people ask me, “hey are you okay?”
I just want to scream “no! I’m not! ...I’m ...not.”
But it just pushes me aside and says, “yeah, I’m fine. I’m just tired.”

Depression is like hide-n-seek at first. I didn’t want to be anyone’s problem so I just hid and when they found me I just used the most basic excuses, which somehow always get by.
“I’m fine. I’m just tired.”
But now I want more than anything for someone to notice me, to ask me again after I say I’m fine and say, “are you sure?”
But it just hides me in a corner closet, under a pile of shoes and coats. I’ll never be found.
It’s good and hide-n-seek.
I’ll just stay here, curled up in a ball crying while it takes over my life. It’s not me, but it is.
It’s another version of me.
The one that is so fake but everyone thinks is real.
The one who smiles while I secretly frown.
The one who laughs while I cry.
The one who eats while I starve.
The one who sleeps while I’m wide awake at night.
The one who everyone thinks is me.

While it walks my school schedule I’m walking the wire.
Staring into the deep abyss wondering what life would be like if I was gone.
I’m conjuring up fantasies where I suddenly disappear, get sick, or **** myself, wondering what would happen...
And it’s writing stories about little kids, dogs, or love, and hands them to the teacher.

Now I’m at the edge of the cliff.
Teetering back and forth between life and death.
And someone sees me.
“Hey, are you okay?”
But it— Me, I, just say,
“Yeah, I’m fine. I just didn’t sleep that well last night.”
This is a lie, but it’s not too far from the truth.
Every night I crawl into bed, knowing that I won’t be falling asleep for a few hours
So I just stare at the ceiling, wondering about everything out there
Wondering who, if anyone is thinking about me.
Wondering if there is someone else out there, unable to sleep.
Wondering if anyone has noticed what I’m going through.
Wondering why I can’t just say “no, I’m not okay” when people ask.
Why is that one word so hard to get out?
Why can’t I reach out to people for help or at the very least say no when they ask if I’m okay?
But then I realize why.
It’s holding me back, it covers my mouth, it speaks for me.
“You don’t want to be their burden, you don’t want to make your problems theirs too,” it whispers to me. “You can deal with this yourself.”
So I do. I try.
But I still find myself teetering over the edge every day.
Crying silently because others are in the house.
Dying on the inside but smiling on the outside.
Staring at the ceiling at night because you can’t bother the others for help with your sleep.

Suddenly I find myself over the edge but I scrambled and grabbed onto a branch.
Did I fall? Was I pushed? Did I jump?
Somebody else noticed but I still smiled anyway and told them I was fine.
I can do this. It’s not that bad. I’m fine by myself. I don’t need to bother anyone.
I find myself falling again.
Did I slip? Was I pulled down? Did I let go? I don’t know.
Will somebody be there at the bottom to break my fall?
And if there is someone there,
Do I want them to?

I’m not blaming you for everything
You weren’t the only person who played a part in this
But you knowingly lit the first match
You set off a fire in my heart, but that wasn’t good because my heart was a fuse that connected to my soul, and my soul was a bomb
When my soul exploded I was gone
There was nothing else left
You’re not the only one at fault
I am at fault too for letting this go so far
You need to be careful where you go with that lighter, because not all girls are immune to fire
Some are like me and made of straw, while others are stronger and won’t catch fire at all
But some are made of water and won’t hesitate to put out your fire if you try to break them like you did to me
So goodbye.
I can leave now for two reasons:
The first is that I don’t have to be worried about breaking my own heart when I leave, because you made sure that once you were done with me there wouldn’t be anything left to break.
It’s hard to shatter broken glass
And the second reason?

I don’t care about your heart anymore.

Being in denial is like running towards a sunset.
You’re trying to make the day never end.
You run away from the ever-present, slowly growing darkness.
You cling onto that little shred of light you can still see,
refusing to look behind you at the black abyss that is the truth.
You chase after the sun even after it’s gone.
When you finally realize what you’re doing and you look around,
you don’t even know where you are anymore.
You’re lost, and the one thing you thought you had isn’t there anymore.
That night will be the worst of your life,
but if you can get through it,
the sun will come back.
It’ll be somewhere else than before.
There will be new clouds and a new sky,
but it’ll still be good.
The light will come back and you’ll look around and see that this place really isn’t as bad as you thought it was.
It’s different than before.
It’s not your old sun and home,
but it’s still good.
You’re old sun left,
but your life is still there.