Dear 17-year-old me,

I'm sorry that we failed you so many times. I'm sorry we didn't get the help you needed.  I know you are so incredibly sad but you will get better. It will get a lot worse before it gets better. You will get your heart broken. You will be alone. You will try to fix it by sleeping with a guy who can't love you and he will hurt you repeatedly. You will hurt you and everyone around you because of it. You will drink too much. You will get really drunk at a party and tell a guy he can do something to you that won't make you feel better. You will pass out. He will do it anyway. You will be best friends for a longtime. You will feel violated and *****. People will be mad at you for it. People will look at you different and make fun of you for it. You will stop eating. You will start cutting again. You will stop believing in God. You will try to **** yourself. You will drop out of art school. You will start smoking and doing many things you never thought you would do. You will start purging. You will leave scars on your body too deep to heal. You will try to get help. You will fail. You will lose sleep. You will sleep every other night. You will hate yourself. But it will stop.

You will find God. You will get help. You will start eating again and you will gain a lot of weight but it will be okay. You will realize you were taken advantage of at that party and you will know that is why you are struggling. You will forgive yourself and stop being friends with that guy. You will start sleeping. You will find joy in sorrow. You will love and be loved. You will paint and draw and create. You will stop cutting. You will laugh so much. You will look depression in the face and say "you don't own me." You will be strong. You will hope. You will grow.

I wish I could hug you and tell you that you are beautiful and wanted and worthy. I want to tell you that you are smart and creative and enough. I want to tell you that the world will come crashing down around you and you will be okay. I want to tell you that I love you and one day you will too. Keep going because life gets so much better. You get so much better.

-Your biggest fan, 20-year-old you

I am drowning in my guilt for thoughts that I can't shake away
and you just say the way I think is something I should just betray.
What about all the abuse that comes from voices in my head?
Will you even weep for the loss of me when I finally drop dead?
I was losing faith,
you just pushed me away.
My heart was bursting at the seams
you just kept spitting on my dreams.
I asked to get away.
You begged me to stay.
What the hell do you want?
I can't make the voices stop.


And I will take my pain to someone who can give me what I need.
I should have known this all along I should have found the guts to leave.
Because I live by what you're preaching,
but I always come up short.
My relationship with God's not something I have to report
to you.
Or anyone unless I'm shedding light.
But not for praise or for approval,
not for every stupid fight.
I know my place
and I will live by this.
Make no mistake,
I don't feel forced to hide
my dignity
or be ashamed of what's inside.
I just don't plan to abandon my morals
for one generation's pride.
I'm done.

I'm not angry I promise.
I'm just completely consumed.
All my friendships are burning,
and my family is turning
into something I can't stand.
All I need is some compassion
from the ones I love.
And they just tell me to try
I'm done.
Really this time.

Dear reader,
I have hope.
I found it buried
beneath ashes
I had made.

I'm okay now.

I once burned
the bridges
that kept me sane
but I've rebuilt them
and crossed them.

I am safe now.

I neglected
to tell you
what I had done
and how it felt
to be freed.

I am freed now.

Come with me
cross that bridge
and find a way
to be okay,
to fly.

Come fly with me.

With the pills I was beaming.
I was shining.
Still in pain
But I knew how to cope.

Without the pills I am crashing.
I am overcome with darkness.
So much pain
No way to forget it.

Where I smiled,
now I snarl.
Where I laughed,
now I weep.
The boom of confidence
Now replaced by a hiss of doubt.
The once hushed voice
Back to remind me of the violence.

How can I get back?
How can I be okay alone?
I'm too afraid to think about it.
Too afraid I won't save myself.

You get to be brand new
A whole new you
The old me?
Oh I'm not sure
She died somewhere on I-96
Between Detroit and Fowlerville
She just collapsed
In the front seat of her mother's Malibu

I do believe it was soon after
She punched a trash can
And made out with her best friend
And then followed him into a room
She never really remembered
Much after that point
But she cried a lot about it

Until she died
She turned into her own grave stone
She took something to help her sleep
Took half the bottle
And got sick
She woke up crying
But she woke up
Only to die a few weeks later

I still visit her sometimes
Like tonight
On New Year's
To shove it in her face that I managed
I survived what she couldn't

I still hate her
But I still love her too
She lives in a dark place in my heart
That sometimes I flush out
With her favorite drink
Like tonight
On New Year's

I don't want to go
I never loved them
Not like my friends
I recently lost

They all have lives
I live with my mom
I have no future
Planned out

The only way
I hear a friendly voice
Is when I answer the phone
When the telemarketers call

I have no job
They all pay bills
They look at me funny
Like I'm pathetic

They don't know me
Not anymore
I don't want to go
I'm too embarrassed