Letter to myself: 10th February ’18

I hate sitting to write letters to myself when I’ve nothing to say. Kinda tuned out and it’s hard to try connect when there’s seemingly nothing to connect to. Oh well, will try.

Hi Eliza,

I don’t really know what to say. I wish I could make the world safe enough

for you that you don’t need to move into your own world. I wish I could give you the tools to handle living in the real world without cutting off. I’m proud of you Eliza. For trying. For doing. For being. For getting this far. Life’s hard at the moment. And, it’s okay. Cutting off is okay. I know you don’t at the moment have a choice. And I know that you hate that it just happens. It seems to take away what was until now. It doesn’t Eliza. It doesn’t change that you lived in the world around you more and more for the past month or so. Living in the real world is fun. And hard. Really hard, but hard for good reasons. And just ‘too much’. It’s come with awesome side benefits. Such as the ability to really be mindful and not just tune into the world, but tune into the moment. I never knew how much you tuned out until you tuned in. I know you sometimes have a choice to turn the on or off button. On occasion. For usually you don’t. Such as now. And, it’s okay. You’re okay. The world is an awesome place Eliza. There’s an entire world out there for you Eliza. A world to explore. A world to see. A world to just, be in. You can do it. You will do it.

Last night you went back to reading stuff that ain’t the greatest for where it sends you to. Eliza, I’m proud of you. I know how much you were freaking out last night. I’m proud of you for putting down the razor you were about to mess with. For choosing not to throw up. I wish there were a way you could have reached safety in a safe way but I don’t know what that could have been. For future we’ll have to figure something out. Today you ended up throwing up anyways. And, it’s okay Eliza. For what you do doesn’t have to take you down any paths. Using something you haven’t once doesn’t mean you have to again. I know how messed up everything is at the moment, and it’s okay.

I love you Eliza. You can do it. You’ve got this. Yeah, it’s hard, but it’s not mission impossible. You’re capable of anything Eliza, anything at all. You’re worth it.

Eliza, even if what you think is true, which, there is no reason it has to be so and highly unlikely that it is, even if it is true, you aren’t to blame. Yes, it’s what she’d have wanted, and yeah you could’ve prevented it, but, not really Eliza, you couldn’t really have. You can’t control the world. You don’t bear responsibility for the world. You aren’t guilty for the world. You can only do what you can, and Eliza, you really have done. You gave what you could. You loved as you could. You were present, and focused. You did your part. Even if it is so, and Eliza, it is NOT so, you aren’t guilty for it. If it’s so, it isn’t healthy, but it is not your issue. At all. It’s others. Or no ones. I wish I could take the guilt you feel away. I don’t know how to. I know you aren’t at fault. Ever. You aren’t guilty for living. I know that there is a part of you that knows it. Well, else you wouldn’t be writing this. I know that one day you’ll really know it. And until then, just try not let that guide your life.

You deserve to live a life you love. You want to live in the real world, and be present in the moment, and Eliza, you will. You’ve done it partly. You are doing it partly. Partially. For, I don’t know how much you’ve tuned out. I don’t know how present you’ve been. And there will come the day when you’ll always live in the world. There’ll come the day that it’s safe enough to do so. That you have the tools for it. That you can handle it.

When life throws you a curve ball, you can either let it knock you down, or you can catch it. The curve ball it’s thrown right now is bringing up a whole lot of the past. You can either let it destroy you. Or you can catch it. Deal with it when you’re able to. The curve ball it’s throwing you now makes you helpless in the face of helplessness. You can either let it destroy you. Or you can catch it. Let go of what you absolutely cannot control and just be there, with it.

Love you Eliza, always. You’ll always have your greatest ally at your side. Yourself.


4 thoughts on “Letter to myself: 10th February ’18

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  1. If I were you, literally now, I’m not speaking figuratively, I’d be calling my sponsor and hitting a meeting. I couldn’t fix my problems with the same brain that created them in the first place. But that’s me.

    1. Sigh. If I’d have a sponsor, and or go to meetings I’d do either. Considering that neither are a part of my life it isn’t really an option.

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