Found a harsh letter my therapist wanted me to write to someone who was causing a lot of anxiety in my recovery. Sometimes the hardest thing for people to read or see, is what makes them realize the extent to which something affects them. I did edit some of my words to spare any feelings to certain readers but I do think most of this letter explains how it feels to have a mental illness through someone else’s eyes.
It took me a long time to accept this part of myself. It never occurred to me that I would have to continue the struggle and have to prove my worth to other people; to you. I realize the stigma in society is history packed, but never in a million years did I think I would have to show you this part of me. This is not a letter to damn you as a person, as much as you may think so. It is my only outlet of communication. I have depression. It does not have me. It’s a fine line but a line nevertheless. To me that means I have emotions just like every other person, which can sometimes get out of control. But, I can be angry without “it” doing the undoing of my mental state. I can cry, for the love of god, without being on the verge of a mental breakdown. Have any idea how it feels to be deemed tainted by outsiders all the time? Might as well walk around with a branded letter on my chest; a warning to those around me. It’s a pretty sad statement when I say I connect with the main character in Scarlett Letter wearing her A. Mine being D.A. I realize these words will cause distress to you and I’m becoming more vulgar as I write on. But being treated as if I’m fragile, being sent to specialists, and up and downs of meds have drawn me to my anger. I love you, but cannot take the role of the fault in our relationship. I am different. But I can’t be shameful anymore. This is me.
Healing requires feeling