Monday, April 1, 2013

I Wrote You A Love Letter.

This is an open letter to anyone out there contemplating ending their life.

Are you feeling suicidal? Then I'm talking to you. Yes, YOU. I won't allow it. No. You are not allowed to commit suicide.

See, for the past few months, I haven't really wanted to live. But I'm not allowed to kill myself. It's simply not an option. For a few reasons. I just can't.

And mother fucker, if I am not allowed to off myself, then dammit, neither are you. I know 2013 has been a bitch so far. Not to mention the last couple months of 2012 acting like a bastard. I had high hopes for 2013. I hoped me and 2013 could like, be BFF's. Braid each other's hair, tell each other secrets, giggle while we painted each other's toenails. But 2013 raged into existence like a crazed wildebeest in a china shop having a bad trip.

In short, 2013 sucks. And that, my dear friend, is an understatement. 2013 had me thinking of offing myself.

But, like I said, I can't do that. And if I can't, you can't. You are not allowed. You're too special. Too precious. Too loved.

Please, if that brought a grin to your face, don't off yourself. You're special. Really special. There's too few people in this world who get my sense of humor. You are special, and I'd very, very much like it if you stuck around.

Or is that too much? Did I offend you? Are you pissed off and feeling self righteous now? Because you're shocked and appalled that I could treat something as serious as suicide as lightly as I did? Are you really angry now?

GOOD. Get angry. Get really mother fucking angry. You should be angry. Angry as all mother fucking hell, bitch. You know why? Because depression is a fucking bastard. A fucking bastard who LIES.

DEPRESSION HAS BEEN LYING TO YOU.

Depression tries to tell you that you're worthless, you're bad, you're stupid, you're blah blah blah de fucking blah blah on and on and on it talks so damn much about so much bullshit and it's all LIES. Christ on a fucking cracker, it will not shut up. It goes on and on blah blah blabbity blah and you're not good enough and nobody cares and nobody understands and blah blah blabbity BLAH the world would be better off without you, your friends, your family, they'd be better off without you blah blah blah OH MY GOD, DEPRESSION, SHUT UP.

I know all too well how much depression just loves the sound of it's own voice. And you know what else I know? I know you are not alone. I know you are not a freak. I know you are loved, whether it's by a spouse, a lover, a friend, a child, a grandparent, or maybe even that homeless guy you felt sorry for yesterday and gave a couple bucks to and smiled at. You made that guy's day, because you made him feel like someone cared. And he loves you for that. Or that old dog you always see on the way to the store, he looks so forlorn, but he perks right up when he sees you because you always have a kind word and a soft pat on the head for him. Even that dog loves you. Depression wants you to be blind to this love, blind to the empty black hole you would leave in this world if you were gone. Depression is a sneaky bitch who blabs at you all day, telling you all sorts of lies. And I know, that if you have put up with that, those horrible lies that depression just loves to spew, whether for one tiny week or for twelve long years, you're a Goddamned hero.

You, my friend, are a bad ass mother fucker. A Bad Ass Mother Fucker. So get mad. You should be mad. Stomp, kick, scream, punch the wall. Fucking break shit.

You deserve to be angry. Because you've been lied to.

So get mad and scream and yell and get it all out. And then laugh. Laugh like a Goddamned feral maniacal hyena, my friend. Laugh until your face hurts and your belly aches. Laugh until tears stream down your face.

You deserve a good laugh, my dear, sweet friend. You deserve that delicious wild laughter that one experiences so precious few times in life. You know the kind, the kind of loud bubbling laughter that takes on a life of it's own, and you just can't stop it once it gets going.

You deserve that, and so much more.

Because you are a Bad Ass Mother Fucker, my wonderful sweet friend.

So don't do it. There is nobody else like you in this world. We cannot lose you. You are way to precious and important.

And I'll say it again, because this part's the most important part:

You are a Bad Ass Mother Fucker. The world needs you in it.

2 comments:

  1. oh my days that was strong, hopeful and fekin brutally honest mush. a massive thankyou for a belated kick up the arse :-/

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  2. Well, my friend, thank YOU for your comment, which was one of a number of things the past week or so that slowly pushed me to start writing again. Thank you.

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