Today, I'm going to give you a chance
I never gave myself.
A chance to understand that you don't have to compare yourself to anyone else.
A chance to understand that you are enough, you've done enough, and you will do enough
to make your life worth living.
You may not feel like you deserve this chance. But you need it.

I know. It can be scary to feel.
You either feel too much or nothing at all.
Or even worse, you feel you've hit the bottom
so many times you stop being afraid of the fall. Maybe you're already there,
and you decide to take a look around.
You start to feel safe.
Because you fear you'll be judged
if you are ever found.
Judged for falling when people thought
they were picking you up.
Judged for staying at the bottom just because you were "stuck in a rut."
And these fears are valid.
These fears may come true.
But these judgements will come
from people who love you.
I know it might not be clear
what I'm trying to say, so here it is:
it's okay to be afraid.
But if no one knows there's a problem,
they'll never be able to help show you the way.

Every day, the fatigue that plagues my body gets closer to my brain. And, I can't help but wonder. When it gets there, will everything I've worked for be in vain? No! I can't think like that. Not when I'm so close to my dreams. But how can you fight exhaustion when everything exhausts you?

Everyone has the ability to hurt.
Everyone has the ability to heal.
Everyone has the ability to help.
Everyone has the ability to feel.
Everyone has the ability to dream.
Everyone has the ability
to make their dreams come true.
Everyone has abilities.
But what you do with them is up to you.

Take a minute to think about all the things you've said and all the things you've done.
If you put them all together,
it all adds up to one. One moment.
The moment you realize your mistakes
aren't failures. They're teachers.

There are so many differences
between you and I that, I can't help but wonder: could it ever be worth the effort
to try to find a way for us to see eye to eye?

You thought you'd left the days of make believe behind by the time you were nine.
And yet, years later, here you are
making yourself believe you'll be okay
so you can make your baby believe the same.
Somewhere along the way,
we seem to correlate imagination
with maturity.
But what if it has less to do with growing up and more to do with surviving?
What if it's a defense mechanism?