“Dear Young Me, I'm so sorry. It will hurt, really bad. And even when you won't be able to be…”
Dear Young Me, I'm so sorry. It will hurt, really bad. And even when you won't be able to bear it anymore, it will still hurt. I'm so sorry for what will happen to you and those around you whose pain you won't be able to understand because yours will always feel greater. Now I know what you'll have to go through and I am sorry for you because you'll slowly ripe until suicide becomes a wish, your last hope to end the pain. So I have a piece of advice for you: never stay lonely, especially when you have nothing to lose left. Think about yourself and don't you dare to be afraid, move to somewhere else, change your routine, find purposes. And if it doesn't turn out well, then run as fast as you can, never abandon. Don't give in, even when you're way more often sad than happy, even without any purpose left and none yet, relax and let yourself be taken away by the current of your life without fighting it until you've had enough. That's when you'll certainly have completely lost interest in living and you'll be left with a choice: live or die. Either you live and think about what exactly you'll do to be proud of yourself afterward, don't be harsh on yourself yet, be easily impressed by what you actually can achieve, and be proud of the efforts you furnished. There are two main advantages in that case: first of all, look at depression as not only the lowest you went but as a rest as well, like a batterie very slowly being filled with energy again. And if it doesn't work, you'll still have plenty of time left to commit suicide if that's your last hope. But at least take that chance and get as damn close to things you look forward to as you can. I've been You, I've been there; in fact, I still am. After several attempts, self-harm, anorexia, a bunch of other disorders related to my having a high intellectual potential, family issues, lack of money. I understand the main issues and I am so full of regrets, that's the worst part. I hate some parts of me. But I understand, that's the thing. I do and I am so damn grateful I took the chance to allow myself to stumble and to rise back up, again and again. I am so much stronger now, much wiser, and less sensitive. I am proud of myself. Hang on Young Me, it's worth it if you get back up.