Things I wish I could Tell My 20 Year Old Self

You kill your sadness in many different ways.

You go through phases of depression, when all that makes you feel the blood rushing in your veins is alcohol,  nicotine, actual blood gushing through self-inflicted wounds, or heart aches you bring upon yourself. You do it all just to make sure you're still alive, still kicking, still THERE.

You ask for the little highs, you jump off cliffs, chase the rivers, ride the waves, stand on the ledge of ten-story buildings, just to feel your heart pumping in your chest. You shatter yourself again and again, for all the wrong reasons, just to see a sliver of light in the darkness that has engulfed your world.

It's been so long since there was color, you think; so long since you saw the blue sky instead of the gray clouds. It's been so long since you've felt anything but cold, and despair, and the raging need to just get on with your life.

You struggle, of course, we all do, you fight valiantly through the haze and the debilitating fog. You try to get through with all your strength, because it's what we do, love. It's how we're made. You get up in the morning and it's a constant battle against the odds and the voices in your empty head. You walk through valleys of sneers and catcalls, and judging eyes, all telling you "it's all in your head", "get over it already", "stop being so weak", "move on". You nod your head and try to not let it add to the weight you've already been carrying your whole life.

See, they don't know, they've never been here before. They still see the world in color, in a spectrum you've already forgotten, they don't get that you can't just "get over it already". It's not an airport stop-over, it's the plane itself. It's how it is, and how you feel, and that's completely fine. Your feelings are valid, and your brokenness is beautiful.

Take a day, a month, a year, a decade, struggle and fight through it all, just don't stop. Keep going, there's a tomorrow out there somewhere, where you'll be able to see things through rose-colored glasses, and not through the mist anymore. You'll be alright, love, you'll be grand, you'll be ALIVE.