You need to spend time crawling alone through the shadows to truly appreciate what it is to stand in the sun.
– Shaun Hick
Dear 26-year-old self,
I know shit’s bad right now. Really bad. I know there are days you wake up, and wish you wouldn’t have. Days when razors and pills seem like a better option than living. I know. Believe me, I know.
See, I’ve been there. The nights that brought you to your knees. All those 3 a.m.’s you wept to God. Screamed for help. Tried your damnedest to punch through the walls that were caving in.
I know. I also know this: it gets better. I know, you probably think that’s bullshit. Like something all your friends and family have told you one too many times. It’s not bullshit. It gets better. The flames die, the darkness subsides. It gets better. I swear. Give it one year. One fucking year. 2017 is when everything changes for you. You enjoy the sun on your face. You believe in love again. You even believe you can have it. What’s more, you actually want it. You know razors are meant for legs, underarms, and well…other areas. Anyway, the point is, you believe again. One year. In one year, you’ll breathe again. You’ll hope. You’ll want to live. Just wait the storm out. I’ve got you. You survive. I promise. Just hang on.
Your 27-year-old self