An Open Letter

I had my therapy session today (thankfully) after not being able to have it last week. Thankfully, I’ve been doing fairly well; but one of the things I talked about with her was a surprisingly powerful paradigm shift.

All my life I’ve struggled with the mindset she calls “scarcity of love”, where essentially I think that there is not love for me in the world – I will not be loved/unlovable. This has been a reoccurring problem for years I’ve been working on with her, but today I brought it up inadvertently by asking for help about the new self-esteem issue.

After further prying, we realized that it was more like a flawed argument: imagine you are arguing against someone about some point, and every time you refute their argument they change their argument. No matter how many times you show them they are wrong, they hold the same point. This is more or less what I’ve been doing with the mindset of that I am not loved. I’ve been stuck in that comfort of all I’ve known, to think I am unworthy of love. What she recommended was to instead propose a new thought.

What I wanted instead was best written by the quote:

I hope I die
warmed by the life
I tried to live

So I thought I posted an update a bit ago, must not have gone through.

Thank you to all the people who have reached out to me regarding my mental stability, I am doing much better now and am not at risk 🥳🎉

After 8 months I have restarted medication, but no longer SSRI’s or anxiety meds; this time for ADHD! Kinda surprised about it as it all happened relatively fast, but everything clicked and starting treatment has already made life feel completely different. I got prescribed Ritalin, and today was my first day taking it. I was worried I would feel like a superhuman, and be able to focus incredibly well; but in practice I still had to put in effort to focus onto things. The difference was I had a bit more control over my brain, as I noticed I was able to listen to a lecture without having to constantly remind myself to catch back up due to zoning out.

The biggest change however was the mental block feels lifted for doing tasks. I had a box of hangers on the floor that have been sitting for two weeks, I was able to just go open it and hang my clothes. I took a water bottle from the sink and threw it away. I replaced my screen protector. ALL WITHOUT HAVING TO STRUGGLE FOR WEEKS!

These things seem so simple, but things like that have haunted me for weeks at a time, and while I know that they are incredibly easy and trivial, I had a mental block from doing those things. I can’t describe how impossible it was to get myself to do those things, it was completely irrational; yet real. But suddenly, I can just do them! I was able to start some work I’ve been afraid of and putting off for weeks, and when I hit a block, I didn’t immediately get overwhelmed? I was able to learn and continue? Jesus christ this is how life should be. Thank you 10mg of Ritalin!

In my reflection I see eyes that aren’t mine

I don’t see my experiences, my childhood, my curiosity, my values or who I think I am

I don’t see what I am in them anymore

The thought of just ending it in a quiet, desolate place keeps creeping up before the thought of the people around me hurting stops, but even when the thought steps out it leaves its imprint of where it is. I think the people I would hurt are the only reason I don’t consider it more. I’m afraid what will happen if I isolate myself enough to the point where that doesn’t matter.

I went ahead and got rid of this link from everywhere I could think of. I turned off email subscribers so Claire wouldn’t get a notification.

I’m sick of being a burden to those around me, I don’t think I’m getting better so at some point I just wish people would give up. I don’t have enough value I could give to justify supporting me.

I don’t have any plans now, but if it happens I think I would be happy. Ideally in an accident so no one would think they could have done something differently. There’s too many small things that mean nothing, yet to me they destroy me. I can’t keep going on like this.

I’m so fucking sorry.

If you spend your time chasing butterflies, they will fly away. But if you spend your time building a beautiful garden, the butterflies will come. And if they don’t, you would still have your beautiful garden. -Mario Quintana

I feel like maybe what I need is a blind faith to move forward past my current roadblocks. To relearn things that have been instilled in me since a child, I need to break out of my current mold. If I want to change, I think I might need to take a leap more often.

So vague posts aside, the person who left this scar’s name is Tonia Wu. I don’t feel bad about putting her name online, because she has no online identity. Maybe that was the first red flag I should have noticed. She was a student at the school I go to, and of all places I met her through reddit. At the time I needed dog sitters to take care of my dog during classes, since at he wasn’t able to be left alone; and she was one of the people who reached out. I remember the first time we met, we were supposed to just see each other to make sure we weren’t serial killers, but we ended up talking for hours. I remember feeling that instant connection, and how good I felt around her.

We ended up becoming fairly close friends very quickly, constantly texting and spending time together, even to the point where she slept in my apartment for two days while she had bed bugs. We had talked about how we are fully platonic friends, so I tried my best to not catch feelings. I offered she could sleep over since I lived alone, and she was a clean freak and hated the idea of sleeping with the bugs. The first night, I slept on my chair while she slept in the bed. The next night, she said it was fine if I also slept in the bed next to her; and I remember feeling nervous being so close to her in my small twin bed. I remember in the morning when I was coming to, I made the leap to hug her, and to my surprise she snuggled into me.

One day on a walk, we were talking about the concept of getting flowers as a gift. I remember telling her how if I ever got flowers, I would cry over how kind it would be. I told her that if I ever got flowers I would treasure them for as long as I could, and it would be a core memory. She then told me that she wanted to give me flowers, but she wouldn’t because now it would become fake since we talked about it. I never told her, but I would have loved flowers from her all the same.

The day she asked me out, I had what I believed was a date, as a girl I had been flirting with was supposed to be coming over and I was going to cook for her. I remember she was at my place and we were talking before then, and she ended up confessing along the lines of “I know we were just supposed to be friends, but I think I like you” and to just reject her so she could get over the feelings before it was too late. I told her I had feelings for her too, and I remember feeling something I had never felt before. We decided we would start going out. Funnily enough, when the girl came over later that day I told her what happened, she told me she didn’t think it was a date.

That started the happiest two months of my life.

I know it’s wrong, but I can’t stop thinking about what I wouldn’t give for one last day. Would I spend it asking her where it went wrong, or what I could do to save it? Or maybe I would just spend it in ignorance to just live in bliss. Maybe I would want to savor the feeling of what I’ve always wanted, or maybe I would try to get as much as I could like a prisoner on death row. It’s almost funny how something so short left a wound this long. I can’t seem to get myself to close it however.

And with that, my last hope goes away. I can’t say I was surprised, but it still hurt. I feel like over these last 4 years at college so much has changed in my life, yet I realize more and more how I’m still the same. Rejected from all colleges I wanted to go to, and still an insecure, self-loathing person. To be fair, not all is a waste; I know that this right now is just my depression trying to romanticize the idea of feeling miserable, and wanting me to have an incentive to end it all.

I guess there are good things to it too, I at least have made some more friends that aren’t graduating immediately either; and I do think I would have been miserable doing a PhD, but still it hurts pretty fucking badly. At least I have myself to be able to vent to through this blog. Is it bad I’ve considered using chat GPT to try to emulate a supportive friend?

Either way, I just want some good news to come along and break apart this shit month. Blow after blow. At some point I just want to sit down and give up.