An Open Letter

Dear Friends, Family, all those who I love, and all you strangers out there,

Please know I am really trying. I am trying to make it on my own in this big beautiful world, but times are difficult now. You all know I have many issues, I’m depressed, I have severe anxiety, I’m bulimic, I drink all the time, and I pop pills like tic tacs. Straight up, I’m fucked up. I’ve made shitty choices, done stupid stuff, hurt the ones I loved, I am all but for caring anymore.

I thought I hit rock bottom last year, but it seems as though I keep falling, and the ones I thought would catch me, have distanced themselves. They are tired of seeing me fall, and tired of carrying my weight. I am very saddened by this, but I suppose I understand.

I can brush it off, I’m a woman with scraped knees, bruised soul and a heart that is in a never ending state of always breaking.

To my family back home. You know I love you all, very much so. But please, it is very hard for me to be away. I am sad I have never met my little niece, I am remorseful that I can’t be there for all your birthdays and life celebrations, I am constantly feeling guilt for not being able to be there all the time. But please know I am, I am always here, a phone call away, I am always here. But please understand, I love this city. I came out here when I was 17, with big dreams and aspirations. Now, I am almost 30, those dreams and aspirations haven’t left me yet. But it takes time. I also have priorities. I have my boy Barrie and my little kitty Olive to take care of. I have friends I take care of out here. Don’t worry, I am figuring out how to take care of myself, but again it takes time, patience, and support from all of you.

I talked to two people today, both who I love dearly. They both expressed their concern for my well-being. More so in the sense, that all my bad habits will ultimately lead to my demise. Please don’t think that way. Everyone goes sometime, whatever will be will be, but I am trying to change. I am trying to die an old lady, warm in my bed. I will admit to this however. Suicide is a constant tease for me. Maybe death isn’t so boring, maybe it’s a wondrous thing after all. I would be able to see my grandma again and my best friend. I would be able to tell them how much I love them and how much I missed them, and how happy I am.

I almost ended my time here once. This was in the fall of last year. I was no longer on medication at this point. I stopped drinking, and wasn’t doing drugs. I was really trying to be my old self again. I had fallen in love, and it was very hard for me to watch the one I loved so dearly move on. I was so sad, I did everything he wanted, I changed my ways for him. Anyways, this particular night I couldn’t sleep. I was restless. I had all these thoughts running inside my head. What did I do wrong? How can we go back to what we had before? What am I doing? I always fuck everything up!!!

11136654_10100458342870173_3235526434844555125_nI got out of bed. Walked into the kitchen, opened the drawer, and grabbed a pair of scissors. Blade to my wrist, eyes closed, tears coming down and just as I felt my wrist becoming warm with liquid, I heard a whimper. Barrie. I turned around and he just stood there whimpering, looking at me. I dropped the scissors, grabbed a cloth, and went over to him. Barrie, my boy, he knew I was sad. He knew I was hurting, and out of everyone in my life, he was always there for me. I couldn’t leave him. He saved me. I can honestly say, if I didn’t have him in my life, I wouldn’t be here right now. And I still have moments where I look at the tiny scar on my wrist and I want to be embraced my death itself, but Barrie. My boy Barrie. He keeps me here.

Now, please don’t be sad for me friends, I’m okay. I’m always okay. All I ask is you for you to understand I am trying, I really am. But it gets harder, the more I am being pleaded to stop, and begged to come back east. I need to do this. I need to get through this, Barrie and I.

Always,

Cait

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