An Open Letter

We had a bit more a chill day today which was really nice, and we watched a horror movie together, and it was pretty unsettling I will say. Wasn’t the scariest but it was good! Afterwards however we decided to re-create one of the scenes really badly which was really fucking funny, and it’s honestly a really beautiful thing it just takes two minutes to record something that you’re very proud of and that you will look back at and cherish.

V is staying with me today. This is the first time someone’s staying with me and we had a big planned day. I’m so tired.

I squatted 345 pounds today! I’ve been honestly just riding that high the entire day. I’m just so proud of myself man. Not even for the PR, but for the person I try to be. I just am really grateful to past me for a lot of the effort that I’ve put in in order to be the person I am today.

While I was growing up I would tell myself not to kill myself because I was like Kassadin. I told myself that even though I wanna kill myself and my life is miserable, I am skiing for a late game. Once I get to college or once I get older my life will be so worth it compared to the people that I envied so much. And at the risk of sounding arrogant, I don’t need to hit 16 to take things into my own hands. I got several kills and a lead, several as solo kills, and several due to help. I’m so incredibly proud of myself for teaching myself to be empathetic, how to be social, charisma, etc. I used to wish that I could be one of those people that gets adopted by someone else socially, and I would mourn the fact that instead I’ve had to learn how to handle it myself and the beautiful thing is now I can handle it. I’m a secure and strong enough person to be authentic in social situations, and that combined with the person that I am authentically, becomes something magnetic towards others. I consistently get thrown into brand new rooms, and I come out surrounded by people that want to interact with me. I’ve gone from being the hopeless person seeking for salvation, to being the person who is so abundantly filled with it, that they’re willing to reach out to people struggling to help them. And thinking about it now, I’ve gone out of my way to involve people or to gently parent people that are abrasive or struggling socially, and even though this is something that I wish I could have growing up I’m completely happy to give it to people that are arguably less deserving. And that never crosses my mind, like it’s not that I think that someone should have helped me socially develop growing up more than these other people, because I was not rude or insulting. And I feel like this post is for misinterpretation, partially because I think I didn’t really capture my thoughts the way that I would hope, but essentially I want to give myself some credit for all of the effort that went to deliberately learning how to be social, and recognizing how that’s paid off.

That was the wedding ring she dreamed of, as that was her favorite stone. My question is what am I to do with that information, where do I put it?

I think one of the strengths of getting to live is to be able to love things in this world. It’s a weird thing to be saying this while confronted with the cost of such thing, but it still feels right to say. I really don’t know what else is more human than to love so willingly.

And this doesn’t need to be to other humans in the conventional sense. I have fallen in love with the soft and slow opening of a hihat, because of how it makes a song swell and carries it to a place through that vulnerability.

I’ve fallen in love with the sunlight on the nape of my neck. I couldn’t tell you a specific memory for it, but it’s something I’ve carved into myself – how the universe comes full circle to remind me about how the same warmth that came from a small space heater on the floor in a locked room exists everywhere. It’s a silent voice gently asking me if I can recognize the feeling, softly leading me out of depression. It’s love in the way I yearn for, and so patiently waiting for me when I forget.

I’ve fallen in love with the lessons that cause me so much pain. All of the places I see that remind me of the love I shared with E push on the wounds that have started to close up. They don’t push hard enough to reinjure me, but enough for it to hurt. That pain serves as a reminder to be proud of – how I went through something that was necessary and that present me is so thankful for. It’s a trophy given for doing something present me could not ask past me to go through, as I wouldn’t want to go through that again. But past me did go through it and the lessons I’ve learned unlock the life I’ve dreamed of. And I get to continue to carry the love for them with me, I can be proud and also happy thinking back to a Barnes and nobles where I got to show her how much I loved her and how I would be there for her. I’m proud of how I supported her, and I’m even more proud of the fact that I not ONCE had any thoughts of complaints, or anything but love and concern while sitting in that hospital room for hours. The only thing I cared about was protecting her however I could, and I’m grateful that I am that person.

I’ve fallen in love with the extremely loud and undignified laugh that I used to cringe at. I’ve gone from suppressing myself or avoiding hearing it to cherishing it now, and I don’t think that’s a small feat at all.

I’ve fallen in love with the office buildings down the street by the road, because as I walk and look at them, with enough flexibility they remind me of Minecraft servers I’ve built up with friends. Little towns with each their own stories and memories tied to them tucked away in my mind, waiting for a random screenshot or reminder to surface them again.

I’ve fallen in love with the concept of someone putting in so much care, love, thought, soul and life into something that has no promises of return. It’s such a beautiful bid for connection that I root for.

I’ve fallen in love with all of the endless things I could devote my life to and not fully explore. I get to see and experience so much in this world and I would never be able to go through it all. And is that not such a beautiful thing?

To my original question I don’t know what to do with all of this love that I’ve cultivated inside of me other than to hold onto it dearly with gentle hands.

Today I squatted 335 pounds! It moved pretty well and aside from some knee pain afterwards it was wonderful. I’m really proud of myself. I’m not just proud of that achievement, but also because of the whimsy and joy that I’ve fostered in my life for myself. I’m proud of the person I have become, and the person that I consistently work towards being. I’d like to think that depression has given me the gift of being intentionally happy with life.

I watched the movie and it brought me to the verge of tears several times, and at one point I finally shed a tear. One singular tear lol. I was really trying my best to cry but that was the most I was able to get out. I really loved the movie, not necessarily because it was written or anything like that but I think just because of the experience as a whole.

I will say however afterwards I kind of got hit by a combo attack of small little grief waves. Attack on Titan with something I started re-watching finally because I was watching it with E. And I thought about how cool of an experience it would’ve been for her to watch the movie. One of the things we talked about while breaking up was that she didn’t know what episode we were on and that was one of the things I told her over text. The movie theater we were at was also one in the same complex with the Barnes & Noble‘s that we had a date at, where she then had a scare about her vision and so I rushed her to her specialist doctor and waited with her for four hours keeping her spirits up and calming her down. throughout the whole process I kept her mom constantly updated, and wrote down notes that the doctors said. I remember a month or two after our break up in my phone I saw the contact saved for her specialist and I deleted it. While driving out of the complex I saw Pick Up Stix, which became her favorite food place according to her, and we would go there and get a big plate to share together. I remember one time after a fight we went there and she apologized after I had de-escalated everything. We got fortune cookies and the fortune that I got was you will find great success in romance, and I took a picture of her with that cookie. I remember sending that photo to her mom, and at Christmas time I got a custom ornament with that photo. She loved it so much and I loved it even more. I remember thinking about how every year we would be able to have a new ornament together. And finally while driving away I passed our food place, where we would go together get Chinese food and then watch a video together on my phone. That’s where we watched several attack on Titan episodes. And we would cuddle up together in the little booth. And I didn’t really have the heart to go back there since then.

It didn’t help that I was leaving the theater after having cried a little bit and trying to push myself to be in that headspace, but it didn’t actually hurt me that much. I still remember her face but I don’t really remember super well the other parts which does help. I don’t want to really remember either. And it does hurt, but like a dull aching pain that could quickly be ignored. And I hope that it’s been long enough that these grief progress bars have been mostly filled up already.

Honestly the biggest thing that I feel is guilt for thinking so much about wanting to date again, and being open to that – while I’m still getting some of the glitter out of my mind. But I try to be kind to myself and remind myself that little pieces of that glitter are always going to be there, and it’s not like I’m necessarily missing her or that I would want to reach back out or anything like that. But it’s more just acknowledging the lack of what was once good memories. And that’s completely OK that’s part of the process of grief.

I’m a little bit sad in myself because I did not manage my time in order to finish watching all of attack on Titan in time for the theater showing, and so I will either have to watch the final movie for the first time blind, or I will have to Watch some sort of abridged season four. Oh well. This really isn’t nearly the worst thing in the world lol.

Honestly today’s event kind of sucked a little bit, there weren’t that many people and the people at my table did not feel like they were at all close to my energy. Thankfully I went with a friend that I met earlier and if it wasn’t for that I would’ve had a much worse time. At least from the people afterwards it seemed like they’re just weren’t too many people in my age range that worked to this event and I kind of worry that I’ve more or less exhausted my pool of people to meet from 222. I know that I’m tired and not exactly feeling the greatest today so I’m not too worried about it or really giving it too much thought, but it is a little bit scary, thinking about how I may have to start meeting people again through another way that I don’t yet know about. But I guess it will be OK because I am resourceful and I do have other avenues.

If I think back, I know that I have memories, Sneaking behind my parents back to play Minecraft with my school friends over Skype. I remember that I had Days after school where I would play Minecraft with my childhood crush, who I eventually ended up asking out with a coded love letter. I vividly remember giving her the note that says that I like you right as the bell rang for the school day to end, and I ran out of that building and I vividly remember how much my heart was beating and how it felt like I was seeing the same colors I’ve seen my entire life, except I was finally appreciating them for what they were. We dated for a year and we would exchange a full page letter to each other using the cipher that I still use to this day. I remember one day I had to rip up all of the notes and flush them in the toilet because I couldn’t risk my parents finding them. I remember one day in class in seventh grade while we were sitting next to each other she wrapped her leg around mine and I got so incredibly flustered I didn’t know what to do and I panicked. On the last day of school before summer break, she tried to hug me goodbye and my nervous system lit up, causing me to duck and roll and run away.

I remember the first day I met the friend I still play games with weekly almost a decade later. It was in a normal game of League of Legends, and the person he was playing with was chatting back with me and my friend. He sent a friend request and have politeness I accepted it, even though I didn’t really like him. One of the happiest memories I have in my life was shared with him in a karaoke bar in Japan last year. He’s one of my closest friends.

In elementary school with my friends at lunch we would jump around the grass fields and role-play being Pokémon trainers. One of the earliest memories I have was in first grade writing a full page for an assignment about how I dreamed of turning into a Charizard and flying to school.

Sometime around second grade, I had a dream where I flew by using pieces of paper on my hands as wings. I was so excited for recess, and I ran as hard as I could and I was not able to fly. If I’m being completely honest, a part of me still does believe that if I was to go now with two pieces of paper, all I would need to do is just run hard enough and flap with enough conviction, because I remember the feeling of the wind lifting me up.

I say these things because someone asked me what my earliest memory was, and the thing that came to mind was the first time thoughts of suicide came to me, even though I didn’t even know what suicide was. It presented itself in a bottle of some sort of chemical I was told by my sister would kill me if I drank it. And I remember how much I wanted to drink it, not because I wanted to get away from anything, but just because I thought it would be nice to die.

Depression robbed so many memories from me, and it continues to steal whenever it encroaches past the small closet it’s allowed to call home in my mind. A consequence of this is when I look back at my childhood all I remember is the suicide attempt, the plans, and washed memories of numbness, with the only exceptions being things I clutch onto as justifications for why I am the way I am. I desperately paint back in the memories of summers trapped in my room, or the places where the neglect was apparent. If I don’t preserve these memories, I may lose them along with everything else from my childhood, except these are the receipts to prove that I am hurt. But there’s no store for me to return these to, no way to get any value back from them aside from at most, acknowledgment they existed. And I wonder why I do not hold onto the happy memories the same way.

Whenever I look back at childhood I’m free from nostalgia because I only remember the tragedies, but if I hold the earlier memories I mentioned with the same hand, I’m left with a sweeter picture that makes it a little bit harder to leave. And I do have to leave it, because I cannot ever go back, but maybe it is a kinder thing if I was to carry something worth missing.