Two months ago I wrote a letter to myself in November. It was part of my counsellor suggesting that I should think about what I would say to myself in three parts of my life. Today I’m going to continue the trend and write a piece on what I would say to myself when the problems peaked in my early 20s, during my first suicide attempt.
I don’t know if I have the strength to talk to you. I do have the words to describe you: coward, selfish, afraid. What you did was not okay. Hiding the fact that you suffered from depressions was not okay. it led to you turning away from everyone that tried to help you, walking away from those who trusted you. Why? All because you were too afraid to admit to yourself that you had a problem.
You gave up on so much. Do you even remember the dreams that you had? You wanted to be a lawyer. Actually do good for others. You wanted to own a house. Someplace to finally feel at home. You wanted to have a family. Hell, you wanted kids because you knew that you would be a better father than the one you had. You replaced your dreams with masks. Drugs. Alcohol.
You shut yourself off to the world. Every day you went home, locked yourself in your bedroom, turned off the lights, and prayed for it to end. For a decade you lived in total darkness and shadows. You gave up on life. You quit. Life was hard, you’ll know that in a decade. You stopped living. There were no friends, no relationships. Were you angry, or did you hate the way life made you feel?
You tried to get help, but never admitted that you had a problem. Friends tried as well, then you walked away from them. Stop and start that’s what you did. You would see a counsellor for a few days, then walk away. Believing that you were cured. It became so bad, when you needed someone to turn to there was no one left. You were alone.
Am I angry with you? No, for the same reason I can’t give you forgiveness when I know I should. I don’t have time for forgiveness. I want to understand. I want to know why you decided to lose a decade of your life.