Open Letter

I have no one I can talk to. Not really. I have lost everyone that I care about who would even attempt to listen without condemning me for feeling. I understand that I feel things too much, that I react too much, and even when I am doing better and I am not self-harming or doing anything impulsive, I’m still shamed for feeling things so intensely. I was going to say I am sorry for this, but I’m not. I wouldn’t be me, I wouldn’t have the level of passion I do, if I didn’t feel things this deeply. I hate that in our world we promote this idea of being strong, not letting things get to you, and such… because the fact is, things will get to you. Things will hurt you. Not just big things, but little things, too. Everyone experiences things differently. Something that might make you angry may have no effect on me. Something that might make me sad may seem silly to you. It doesn’t mean it’s not just as important to me as the thing that made you angry. I may not understand why that made you angry, but I know how anger feels, and so I can empathize and express understanding to you. But you? All of you chastise me for feeling, not even just sadness, but happiness too. I’ve started adding a disclaimer when I tell you guys about something that made me happy. “I know it doesn’t mean anything, but x event just happened…” How sad is that? Someone did something nice for me, but it doesn’t matter and I promise I won’t think it means more than what it does, but isn’t that nice? Yeah, that’s nice, but please don’t think about it too much. So and so doesn’t like you. So and so is not your friend. I’d just forget about it. Words like that? It feels like you are saying I don’t matter. Honestly, that hurts. An anonymous kind note is left at my apartment, and all of you were so quick to claim it was a mistake. I shouldn’t even be curious at all as to who left it, because it probably wasn’t even really for me. Well, I guess you’re right. Why the hell would anyone say nice things to me?

You’re all so quick to tell me the thoughts I have about myself aren’t true. Even him. One day, well several days, I had mentioned to him the awful thoughts I had about myself. You had me write good things in my journal about myself. You had me write: Passionate, reader, caring, writer, gorgeous (eyes), creative, dragon tamer, intelligent, salesperson (wicked talented), patient, thoughtful, spiritual, loving, perfect. I remember how one day you had me read this little kid’s book about three trees, who wanted to be all these amazing things, and even though those specific things did not happen the way they thought it would, they still had a purpose. One was turned into the manger for baby Jesus, the other was the boat he was in, and one was the cross. I felt so cared about, because it was like someone saw purpose in me. But then you said other things that tainted the nice things. “I’m not going to have sex with you. I don’t like you like that; I’m shallow and you’re not my type.” “I only meant that he wasn’t superficial. He won’t care about appearance or weight.” “You’re just you. It’s okay.” --- That one probably hurt the most. The things about my weight, my appearance, or whatnot…. Those are things I can maybe fix. But when you said that I’m just me, it’s just “who I am”... That hurt in a different way… because I can’t fix that. The words themselves basically imply that there is something so inherently wrong with me, that any negative aspect about me, is unfixable, because it’s who I am. I still can’t believe you’d say these things when you knew how much I already believed those horrible things about myself. I told you how my ex wouldn’t have sex with me because I was fat. And then you said the same thing. You knew that I believed there was something inherently wrong with me, and you said that. I told you that you hurt me when you said those things, and you apologized, but the thing is… you said it… And those words erased every kind thing you said.

I opened up to a friend about these things, and she was so quick to tell me I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t cry. I shouldn’t hurt when I see your name or hear your voice. We weren’t together, and I didn’t want you like that, but I do love you so very much as a friend, as a person, and it still broke my heart. I get people not wanting to see their friends or family members so desperately sad, but the worst thing you can do to someone is make them feel bad for feeling the way they do. Psychology teaches how important it is to validate people. You may not understand, but just because you don’t understand how or why I feel this way, doesn’t make it “wrong”.

What pisses me off so much is that none of you want me to kill myself, of course, but I am so lost as to what to do with myself. I mean, if I’m happy, it’s like oh be careful cause you know that happy-making-thing doesn’t count for anything, it’s nothing. I understand not getting your hopes up, but my god, what is so wrong to hope for something? Just a little bit? Oh, I’ll get hurt, right? Because I can’t ever have anything good like that. You guys wrong flat out freaking say it, but it’s true. That’s how you feel. That’s what you think of me, and I know it. I see it. I hear it in the words you say. You don’t explicitly tell me, “You aren’t ever going to have any real relationships in your life. At least, not any healthy ones with someone who really cares about you. You’re too fat. You’re too ugly. You’re too gross. You’re too emotional. You’re too unstable. You’re too needy. You’re too clingy.” But you say it in other ways.

“I want someone who is independent… and you’re not.”

“Didn’t you just eat? Why are you eating again?”

“You’re not stable enough to do that right now. You should get long-term help.”

“Why do you even care about that?”

“You get too upset about these things. You’re overreacting. It doesn’t matter.”

“It’s fine if he doesn’t respond. Just don’t get your hopes up about it.”

“What about this guy? He’s more in your league.”

I am so tired of hating myself. If you guys really believe these things about me, then please… don’t shame me for being sad about it.

I have survived through so much of this, but this last week… something inside me died. I know that sounds dramatic and cliché, but it’s true. Between the last few weeks of having any happiness downplayed to him stating there is something wrong with the way I look… and then, telling you guys about it and you shaming me for being hurt? Everyone had been so distant with me and so quick to put me in my place when I was feeling happy and so quick to chastise me for feeling sad.

I just don’t see the point in trying. I’m not suicidal by any means… I just don’t want to have people involved in my life anymore. I feel like doing what I need to in order to support myself, but nothing else. I don’t even have any desire to continue my degree, which I was so happy about it. I don’t want to go to church and meet new people. I don’t want to talk to anyone anymore.

I’m not mad at anyone for these things. I don’t want anyone to feel bad about these things. It is what it is. I’m just really tired.