How have you been lately? So many questions I wish to ask, but I doubt if I’d even get through.
I want to ask what’s on your mind. I have no clue. I am just sure of one thing: there’s definitely a lot.
Is it like I-95 on rush hour most days, thoughts a thousand times the speed of cars rushing home? Is it like an accident on a bridge some days, stuck, long, dragging?
My heart breaks. There’s a long road ahead of you, yet it seems the road is a dead end or you’re somewhat stuck in a ditch somewhere no one can reach.
You should be enjoying your youth, having the ride of your life, but instead, you are stuck in a vehicle with faulty brakes and locked doors.
Your life has just begun. You are just starting to discover who you are, but you have already started losing yourself.
I empathize, I’ve been down that road too. But the road you’re trekking is filled with far more potholes, way deeper than mine. And the more I learn about what you’re going through, the potholes are starting to look like one gigantic black hole.
I know what it feels like to have thoughts that scare you, thoughts that make you sad, thoughts that interfere with your normal life. I know how it feels to have these worries bombard your head every second of every minute, every minute of every hour, every waking hour of every day.
I know how exhausting it is to fight the same battle every day — a battle that’s heartbreakingly against yourself. I know the feeling of triumph that you’ve made it through another day, and the fear that tomorrow brings. I know the feeling of isolation and abandonment, when the people who used to surround you start walking away, one by one.
Sadly, people who suffer from mental illness, no matter the type and severity, do not suffer alone. Their loved ones suffer too. And I feel for everyone who loves you. I can just imagine the frustration of watching you lose your way and the desperation of failed attempts to bring you back.
At one point, I have wished for emergency breaks, for the thoughts to come to an abrupt halt, even for just a day. I have wished for the doors to magically unlock, let me out of the misery, even for just a short while.
I have wished that for myself, during the most turbulent rides. I wished to freely cruise, wind blowing on my face, not a care in the world. But it did not happen that way, there are no emergency brakes. Instead, there are shocks that help make the ride bearable. There are seat belts that keep you in place. And somehow, the farther you go, and with a lot of help, you eventually gain control of the wheel.
That is my prayer for you. I pray the fuel does not run out. I pray for heated seats when it gets cold. I pray for bright headlights to guide you on your way. I pray the passenger seat won’t ever be empty, so you wouldn’t feel alone.
I pray, for a safe ride home.