Creative Writing, My Writing, writing

History Has Its Eyes on You

Hi, Hey, Hello!

2 of 6, yes 6, posts coming this weekend. I’m a busy writing bee this weekend, putting it to good use and all that, what with mine be a long one. Anyway, on with the post.

‘I know that greatness lies in you’

Hey you,

If you’re finally reading this it means you’ve probably had some kind of epiphany and need sometime to remind you that you’re more than capable. Or you’re doing that thing where you’ve retreated so far into yourself that you feel like you don’t know who you are anymore. You’re feeling overwhelmed and like you have no real idea what you’re doing. Kind of useless, very much alone. We’ve been here before, you know that right?

We’ve been here many a time. In fact if you’re reading this because the darkness feels like it’s winning, then keep reading, and also know that this is only the 3rd time this has really happened. And you made it through those, probably not feeling like you had conquered something but you did.

You looked at an ever expanding black hole that drew everything in to it and tried to destroy the world around it and ignored its strong gravitational pull. Okay maybe not ignored, but resisted. You didn’t fall down the rabbit hole to a place where no one had any hope of finding you, and now I’m mixing my metaphors.

But you get my point I hope. You conquered the last two instances that this happened and I have no doubt that you’ll get through it this time.

On the, what I deem fairly unlikely, chance given what I know about you you’re reading this because of option 1, then go out there and fucking crush it. I have no doubt that you’ll excel and let me know every single detail along the way.

But back to option 2. First of all, that last paragraph still applies. I wanna know everything, no matter how small a detail. I want to know. Call me five times a day. Call me once a week, once a month. Write it in an email. I don’t care. Just tell me. Just talk. You’re not annoying me, I literally just offered. I wouldn’t do that if I didn’t want you to take up on the offer. I’m not our parents. I understand. I’ll even sit on the phone in silence if you want. If you just want to know that someone cares and loves you, dark times and all, then I’m here. I’ll almost always pick up the phone. It’s a perk of the whole working from home thing, I’m always available. Always.

And also know that ultimately you’re always going to crush it. Just by doing it when everything else feels like it’s burning down and is going to leave you in a ring of ashes, you’re crushing it. Don’t you are undermine how incredible the things you can and do do are. That’s not a part of your brain you should give any more agency to then it already has. And I know that’s hard. I know those dark parts are louder than the light, the goodness, but they are also lying to you. In a huge, gross way they’re lying to you.

Let’s break it down shall we. Really get down to it. Explain all the reasons why it’s lying, even though you think it’s throwing gospel at you. And don’t you dare stop reading this now. I’ll know. I inherited Mum’s 6th sense. You’ve been warned.

You got there. Where you are. You got there.

You rightly, or wrongly, left the hospital, pushed away your fears and went to an entrance interview. You didn’t stutter, you didn’t hesitate or fall flat on your face. You shined. You hopped into my car after it was done and dusted radiating happiness. You were the embodiment of Amy Poehler to the point where I forgot Bill Hader and Phyllis Smith are your typical leaders.

You packed your life up into giant plastic crates and loaded them in my car in the most intricate game of Tetris that I have ever seen play out before my very eyes. You didn’t sit in the middle of a circle of your belongings and freak out, or lament that you’ve acquired so many things in your relatively short life. You packed your shit away and found a new place for it. No questions asked.

You made new friends. You didn’t let that voice take that from you then. You let people in and talked about all the things you got up to with great joy and pure excitement. You crawled back to your room at 6am and then crawled your way back out for a 9am lecture, even though I know every fibre of your being would have been telling you not to do that. To head back earlier just as the night was getting into full swing so that you could get a good night’s sleep and then spend weeks, no months, wondering what it was that you missed after you went home. You silenced them. Shut them down. Forged a life that you finally sounded happy with.

One where you got to openly geek out about the things you love and not be living in fear that were silently being judged for being passionate. Passion is always good, you’ve learnt to embrace that and I am so proud of you for that. One where you laugh freely and have stopped worrying that someone is going to take that laugh the wrong way or that they are going to try and take away the thing that is causing the laughter in the first place. One where you’re having fun and for a long period of time I didn’t think you were ever gonna have that. Fun that is, not this soon after everything that happened in the past few years. I kind of thought that we were a long way from that, but here we are.

You’re out there and you’re crushing it. Totally and completely slaying all those demons that plagued your childhood. And it’s not gonna be easy, and you knew that. Know that. But it doesn’t have to take over your life anymore. Or maybe it does to you, I will never know the true ins and outs and what this thing does to you. Maybe you need to let it take you over so that the good can look truly great and the bad doesn’t look so bad. But it doesn’t seem all that great to me. Not when you’ve made all this progress these past few months. Not when you actually created a life for yourself that wasn’t defined by your mental illness.

I’m not stupid, I know my saying this isn’t going to cure whatever is going on in your head. I know you’re probably hating the whole premise of this letter. But the main reason is that I want, no I actually kind of need, you to know that you’re not alone.

And the darkness can go suck it.

Now call me, cos this letter is finished and I wanna hear your voice. Or tell you something stupid to take your mind off whatever it is that has got you here. Call.

Love, M

sign off 2


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