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An Open Letter To Myself: Volume I

Hi there,

It's been a while. I'm sorry I haven't checked in - things got a little crazy, and I forgot about you for a bit. I'm sure you'll understand, you always do, but I wish you demanded more.

You're difficult to write to, especially with the things I have to tell you. They will be hard to accept, but you should know them.


Oh good, you were aware enough to know a difficult conversation was due. There is so, so much to talk about. But nothing is more important than this right now.

I have figured it out. It's all because we're so woke. We read a few things online, scroll through the day, and suddenly, we become experts. It is all because we're all so damn well read. If the internet were to be believed, you match eight of the ten listed symptoms. Do you think people in war-torn regions or from deprived backgrounds worry about being depressed? Sure, it sounds like discriminating against a populace purely because we were fortunate enough to be born into privilege. Maybe it even is. Every time I presented this argument, I was told just because somebody else has bigger problems, it does not mean you don't have any. That's true, and calls out invalidation. It's practically necessary when you have to find your voice in a culture rooted in cancelling others, and I'm glad somebody made me understand this when I really needed to. But fuck, no. We might have our issues, but they are issues we're lucky to have, and no diagnosis will convince me otherwise. I don't need anybody else to buy into this hypothesis. It's one that works for us, and has always helped uplift you, irrespective of the pit you sank into. These past few months have been so cruelly frustrating, and there's more where that came from. But seriously, enough already. Where's the endurance? We know what it's like to feel helpless, remember? To have the problem right in front of us, and be able to do exactly nothing about it. I can't feel that way again, not about you, at least. I'm not asking you to wake up tomorrow and go back to 2015. That's not happening, and that's fine. We grew up. But, take that shower. Go for that stroll. Write your mind. Pull your head out of these messes you think you're involved in. Do any one of these on any given day, and watch yourself get better. I don't know what your pain is, I really don't. But if you can't figure it out, at least learn to coexist as a first step. We'll get to step two together. Recognize the people in your life, practice gratitude, and be okay. I'm tired of the bellyaching, and you need a break. Seriously, just be okay.

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