A Letter to Self

Dear Self,

I am sorry for all of the years I have mistreated you. I have ignored your thoughts and feelings. I have been telling you that you were wrong. While I do this, I have praised everyone around you. The self-expressed friend who yells and screams for being smart and knowing lots of people. She had one hell of resume to keep all those people in her life. Then there was that friend who was always complaining but she was so good at coaching you through your darkest days but was mad at you for months for checking in. And saying are you sure you’re not worrying yourself into sickness?

You have been largely ignored and instead I have been praising everyone else without regard to you. So today this letter is for you because you deserve the spotlight and I might be the best person to do it.

When you were a little kid, your dad was abusive. In that situation, you asked him for what you could do. You looked for what you could do differently. You didn’t strike back because you loved him. And you tried to sort things out with him before finally letting the family know what was happening. You did not talk about it. Because you loved him and you didn’t want to hurt him. What happened was a misunderstanding and what you carried was guilt and shame that was not necessary. I can see that you were incredibly strong and loving. And what happened was not from a place of cowardice or even wanting to take on all of the blame. It was from a place of holding compassion and love for his needs along with your own.

You know what else I see…a really happy kid who celebrated eating sour patches, raw ramen noodles, and Cheetos with friends. There was a person who saw two best friends fighting and spent a week planning what could be said or done to have them be friends. And both of those girls were heard and had an opportunity to heal and make up because you made sure they were present to the love they had between them.

I see you in middle school ice skating and listening to your friend for hours on end talk a boy at the rink. I remember you telling that boy about your friend so they could possibly be a couple. And they did start talking but it never went anywhere.

Then there was you in high school leading up the recycling commitment and volunteering to help the community. You got over your shyness and shared your passions. You created a group of twelve friends to go to prom. You created that five people took on organizing recycling with you. And that the hope of a better future was accessible for all people.

I remember you as an adult learning that you were love and your willingness to share struggling with anxiety, depression, bipolar, and more helped other people feel empowered, heard, and seen. It allowed an exhibit on mental health to be featured at your college. It was you who reached out to the community and asked every organization and artist you could think of and other people to invite others for an exhibit on compassion, understanding, and connection.

I am proud of you for the small things you did and the big things you are about to do. I look forward to the documentary on suicidal ideation to others hear and see they are not alone. And I look forward to the next mental health art exhibit. You have a big heart and a well-meaning soul.

Sincerely,

Lisa Pulliam