Dear J

Dear J

I'm so sorry that our relationship had to end like this.

I had so much hope for us. Do you remember when we first overcame some of the struggles, I was the optimistic one, saying that we could get through anything?

I really did mean it. My love for you was so bright it blinded me to the things that potentially could stand in the way of my happiness.

I've already explained myself to you and so I won't further.

I won't make excuses and try to convince you of my views.

In this letter, I just want to acknowledge, you.

You are so thoughtful. You always listened to me and remembered the small details.

You remember so well, anything I would forget in an instant. You'd recall it and make it meaningful.

You tried so hard. You tried to fix the things that were seemingly broken, you tried to change parts of yourself for me. You constructively took my criticism and continued working to make yourself better.

You opened up to me, and showed me your all.

You were always enough. I know, to you, I gave everything up, I gave you up over one argument.

I know you still wanted to try to be there for me, and I'm sorry.

I would have done everything for you. I would have stayed if I just cared about only you.

But I decided to take care of me, face my own fears, and take time to only consider my own feelings.

Your capability and loving intentions deserve someone who can reciprocate that to you. I'm sorry, I can't be that person.

I feel so much appreciation for what you've done for me, and what you meant to me.

Thank you for being there for me at my darkest times, and thank you for making me realize my worth when wasn't able to see it. You helped me see things in perspectives I never thought of before.

Right now, I can't help but feel a pain in my chest when I think about all the good memories we have, but I'm so thankful for each and every one.

You dedicated so much of your time and effort and money to this relationship and I can never repay you for it.

You may even think that I wasted your time. If this is the case, I can only say that I never intended to hurt you.

It may not mean much but I can say that 100% that I tried my best, and I just hope that one day you can take something positive out of the time you spent with me.

You are so loving and amazing. I fell so deeply in love with you, more than I ever thought I could.

But I truly believe that I need this time to reflect and be selfish.

You are not someone I am easily throwing away, or giving up on.

You are the person I saw a real future with and gave my all to.

I want to become better and stronger so that one day I can become somebody that you deserve to be with.

Maybe one day we can rekindle, and let me just be selfish again and say that I hope I can be at the very least a good friend to you in the future.

I hope you know that this comes from my heart. You are more than enough.

You deserve everything.

O

Today I thought about killing me

Today, February 10th, I seriously thought about killing myself.

I really thought about it.

I even imagined what would happen immediately after, and even after that.

I'd probably use something to hang myself in the closet.

My cat would probably sniff me after I died and would cry for a long time. He wouldn't know what happened but he'd knew something was wrong. My boy is a smart boy.

My workplace probably would not do anything besides call me until the afternoon tomorrow. They might call my relatives first or my emergency contacts. They wouldn't have heard from me obviously. Then by the evening, they would call the police to check on me.

I wonder if the police would forcefully enter my house if I just went missing for one day.

Anyways.

If the police came, they would notify whoever called it in, I guess. My bosses would both be shocked. Not able to process, but understanding the depth of the situation. Kikumi probably would not be able to understand or comprehend. It would just blur her world, I think.

The police would then notify my grandparents who are my next of kin. They would be beyond devastated, never to recover from the sadness.

With a heavy heart they'd call my mom and my mom too, would never recover from the sadness. She will carry that weight with her for the rest of her life.

I wonder when Alex would find out. I think it would be when she reaches out to my family, asking why she can't get a hold of me. Maybe after 3 or 4 days after I die. She would never recover from that wound as well. She'll never laugh the same ever again.

I'm not sure why it was today.

I'm taking antibiotics for what I suspected to be a UTI but I have slowly but surely convinced myself that I have herpes. Herpes never goes away, and I'll affect every sexual partner I have for the rest of my life.

Do I have herpes? I do not know.

That's not what made me think about dying.

It's definitely what triggered this whole spiral.

Today my sister sent us a photo of her and my mom on Ambleside beach, watching the sunset. My mom sent me a message privately, telling me that they talked about me. They are both worried about me and miss me.

I wanted to cry all day about my herpes but I couldn't until I thought about my sister and my mom sitting by the beach while the sun set.

I wanted to be there.

I want to be there.

Just away from Tokyo and on a sunsetting beach.

Freezing my ass off, of course, cause it's Vancouver in February.

But I wanted to feel like air with them.

Just thinking of that peacefulness that I don't have.

The chaos I'm living in, and realizing how chaotic it really is, made me want to cease to exist.

I cried. I cried a lot. I lied on my yoga mat and just bawled my eyes out.

I just really wanted to do it. I wanted the pain to go away and just die right then and there.

What was frustrating was that my body is still very much alive.

My ass started to itch and my ears got fucked up from blowing my nose so much. 

My body is still functioning and signing me symptoms of issues it wants me to fix.

Even though I don't want to be fixed. I want it all to end.

I hate it here.

When I looked up, my cat was looking at me with curious eyes. His ears were stood up and he was just sitting there staring at me.

He looked so cute. The first thing I said after crying was, you're so cute.

Maybe he's guarding me.

Stopping me from ending the pain and having peace.

Such a dick.

I knew I couldn't do it. I want to.

But I don't want to suffer.

I don't want to Google how to die peacefully lol

The answers I want won't be there.

At this point in my life I'm no longer seeking answers. I don't even have questions.

I just want it to be over.

I just want to stop hurting all the time everywhere.

As I typed this, my cat has been staring at me.

Maybe he doesn't want me to go away, or maybe he just doesn't want me to be peaceful. Either way, dick.

I love him more than anything.

I wonder why it was today.

Maybe it'll be another day.

Dear S

This is going to be in English since I can't express some of the things I want to in Japanese.

Firstly, I want to say Otsukare! This job as your first full-time job isn't easy.

It requires a lot of physical strength and a strong mental drive.

I hope that your decision to leave the salon doesn't take away your confidence and self-love..

I know you worked hard when you were here, and many assitants work really hard for the first year, and yet most of them end up leaving.

It's the fault of the industry and how it attempts to raise stylists by working us too hard.

If we ever made you feel like your mental illness was a burden, I'm sorry.

I realized while you worked here that I'm also 必死. 

Our mental illnesses are not the same, but as someone who is also affected by it, I wanted to be there for you more.

I wanted to be your boulder and help you. I realized though that I'm not strong enough to hold the weight of another person.

I also know that I'm not a doctor and I don't even have the credentials to make you better.

If you felt like you couldn't rely on the people here or that you couldn't reach out to us, I'm sorry.

Before I joined the work force in Tokyo, I wondered why people here don't smile as often, or don't talk heart to heart to their coworkers.

After working tireless hours like them, I understand a little bit better I think.

People are so exhausted physically, they don't have the mental capacity to look out for each other.

It's difficult to take care of even just yourself.

It's such a challenging environment to work in.

I had to numb myself from feeling anything for a couple of months until I built enough muscle in my legs and back to keep me stood up for so long.

I hope you understand that this industry is fucked up and there's nothing wrong with how you react to it.

You are not alone in feeling pain.

Even if I can't help you the way I wanted to, I hope you take comfort in knowing I'm here for you if there's anything I can do.

Dear T

I wanted this relationship too.

I know you won't be able to understand, but I think I wanted this just as much as you did.

I wanted to find stable happiness between us. Through us. Beyond just us.

Stable trust, stable understanding, stable mutual respect.

I wanted to have it with you.

I have always thought of my mental health as a burden to whoever ends up dating me.

I still think it's not easy to be with someone who carries the weight of depression and anxiety.

I didn't expect you to understand or accept.

I also didn't think you wouldn't understand or accept.

When we first met and when you first fell in love with me, I was 18 and you were 21.

It was so pure. Nothing blurred our vision.

I truly believe that I was the genuine person you saw me to be.

It was hard for you to find another pure relationship after that.

Me, I didn't bother looking for something like what we had.

I searched for complicated and sophisticated relationships and that's what I got.

Messy, temporary, so many things that block you from seeing a clear view.

I thought about and still think about how I left you.

The scar I left on you when I didn't know how to communicate properly.

I didn't want it to happen again.

The me you're dating now is different but still the same in some ways.

What's the same? The inner child who is protected from any negativity or growth.

I still constantly feel sorry for myself so I don't have to think of myself negatively.

I deny myself growth because I don't want to face my weaknesses.

There are so many things that changed within me since I was 18.

I learned about the good and bad of the world.

How unequal people really are.

How unstable people are, but how stable societal systems are.

How I can't feel people's pains, and they can't feel mine.

I learned how amazing sex is.

How great genuine friends make you feel.

How drugs can be great.

Through all of this and more, I learned more and more about my own identity.

I grew to learn who I am and who I am not.

I am a feminist who suffers from mental illnesses.

Before when you fell in love with me, I was a sister, a daughter, a girlfriend, before I was me.

You loved that.

You don't love the me who is a strong feminist, and has depression and anxiety.

You can say you love me because you know how.

You've been in love with me since you knew what love even was.

It comes naturally when you say it, but who is it aimed at?

I am hardly the same person you fell in love with.

For me, that's a strength.

When I first moved here and was vulnerable, I was lonely.

I wanted to belong to someone.

I didn't feel like a sister, a daughter, or even a friend to anyone.

I wanted to feel like a girlfriend.

We fell in love like we did before when I needed you.

As time passed, I grew more and more into the person I wanted to grow into.

I've realized my identity as a feminist, as an activist.

I didn't realize it either, but as I grew, I needed our relationship to grow with me.

Instead of just being there for me when I felt lonely, I wanted us to gain a better, more deeper understanding of each other.

Looking back, I can say for sure that I tried.

I tried to enjoy the things you enjoy.

I talked to countless Japanese men and women about you to try to understand your upbringing.

And look, I'm not saying you didn't try. Because I know you feel like you did.

Listening to me teaching you about the gender inequalities of the world was already a lot for you.

Not arguing and just listening must have taken a lot of effort for you.

It isn't enough though. I wanted you to want to understand.

That means wanting to learn even when you weren't being taught.

I wanted you to be curious about how you can live with me.

Live with someone who values something you don't.

Someone who has conditions that affect them and you.

I don't doubt that you would've tried if I asked you to take specific steps and walked with you.

I know you don't want to let me go and you want to be better.

But I need space to grow.

I'm slowly spreading my wings and this house is too small for them.

I want to flourish and find my identity.

I want to find out who I am when stripped of all the titles I defined myself to be.

I need to learn how to love myself.

As cliche as it is, I need to learn how to live with myself before I live with anyone else.

I want to know how I would deal with my lowest points if it were just me.

I want a space that's just my own.

I want to live in an environment that was built by me and the love I give to myself.

I know you don't see the point because you feel like love is enough.

And you feel like the love you have for me is cosmic.

It's a form of love that I don't need though.

It's hard for me to express this because I wanted it too.

I wanted to be satisfied with it.

I wish it was enough.

I'm so sorry. I am leaving this relationship.

It's not for you but I hope it will be in the future.

I am leaving for me.

Self-Validation

Recently, I had one of my best friends tell me how she felt about me.

For me, it came out of nowhere. It felt like she just slapped my face out of nowhere.

"You need more calculation and thought process in your life."

The closer you are and the more you trust someone, the more their words mean to you.

She was one of the closest people in my life the past two years. The past two years where so many traumatic and life-changing events took place.

I made so many big decisions this year, and every time, I had to really tell myself that I believe in myself, and jump into them with so much courage.

But inside, I was always unsure. I was afraid I'm not doing anything right.

And then, she brought back every single thing I did and told me that I never made the right decisions.

I always appreciate and take her advices and opinions to heart.

ALWAYS.

But there's a difference between hurting someone's feelings by attacking them, and giving them a compassionate advice.

What am I going to do after you've told me that I didn't do anything right this year?

Yeah I'll just go back in time and listen to everything you said and follow every advice.

Will you be happy then?

To be honest, over the course of this fight, she has made me a stronger person.

I learned a very important lesson:

NEVER RELY ON OTHERS FOR VALIDATION.

There was a certain extent of trust that I held in her. I trusted that she would give me confidence as a friend, and help me when I felt down, as a friend would do.

When that trust was broken, I knew I would never rely on anyone to make me feel better about anything I did or chose to do.

I don't need you anymore to tell me if I'm doing anything right or wrong.

From now on, I will only rely on myself. I will believe in my own choices and take responsbility for them. I'm never going to complain about it or spit negativity, like you say.

In fact, thank you. Thank you for making me realize that I can't ever trust anyone to control my confidence or emotions like that.

You made me realize my own strength. You made me realize that I don't need you or anyone in fact to feel confident in my decisions.

In the end, we all die alone.

The only person who should be able to affect you is you.

Lesson of the year: Self-validation.

Weak

Hello Otono,

Wherever you are when you're reading this right now, I just want you to know that I feel so weak right now.

It's the day before your term paper worth 25% is due and I'm stuck.

The thing about trying hard in school and actually studying is that the pressure and disappointment is going to be that much bigger.

You've decided to write this massive paper on fashion; one of the topics that wasn't listed. This was a risk you were willing to take to go that extra mile.

But was it worth it? I don't know.

I was so excited to write about this topic that I didn't want to half-*ss it. I wanted to dedicate a certain amount of time and effort to it, and that resulted in you not being able to even start it because you're so busy all the time.

It resulted in procrastination and now you HAVE to write a good paper.

You can't just bring a new idea to the table and do a bad job.

Do you know what I mean?

The thing about trying and wanting something is that you can't half-*ss it anymore.

Because you told yourself you want it and you made that commitment, you can't just do a mediocre job.

But, I guess that's why I feel so weak. I've run out of sources and I can't relate the course to the topic I'm writing about.

I feel as if people are looking at me and judging me.

I feel like I tried so hard to be original and good but in the end disappointed everyone including myself.

I need you to tell me I'm strong enough to do it.

I need the strength to be confident.

I need the validation that I'm on the right track, even though nobody knows.

I need to know that it isn't over yet and I can still do it.

The thing about trying so hard is that if you can't do it in the end, it's a huge disappointment. But if you can do it, the feeling of accomplishment and confidence is going to be equally or even greater than the disappointment it might have brought you.

No one knows if you can do it or not at this point. It's 4:00am.

But the only thing you can do is try.

And if trying ends up succeeding, than you win that satisfaction and confidence.

今は頑張るしかない。

頑張れ、おとの！

Rape.

Today, I've decided to write about something that I haven't opened up about to most people.

Summer of this year, 2016, I was raped.

Him and I reunited on a dating application.
We matched, and started a conversation. We were having small talk, like you would with friends you haven't seen in 3 or 4 years, and we decided to hang out a few days later.

Over text message, he seemed really nice. I could sense a lot of femininity in him, and I felt comfortable talking to him.

Anyway, I felt safe and I didn't think twice about him coming over to my apartment to have a drink or two.
He came over, and we were having drinks, and we talked about the old times and how our mutual friends are doing, etc.

I should've picked up the red flags.

After a little while, we were boozed up and feeling drunk.

He pinched my cheek, hard.
I said "stop that!" and we laughed playfully.
Throughout the night, he kept saying things like "I just wanna pinch you and bite you."
He kept doing things like that and I told him to stop, but it was still playful.
I didn't think it would turn into a traumatic night.

Things were escalating and we were kissing.
He bit me and I was bleeding.
I told him to stop, for the first time seriously. I told him I was bleeding and he seriously had to stop doing that.
He told me "sorry, I didn't mean to. I'm really into kinky sex, though."

"Kinky sex"
I've seen it in pornographic videos before, but it never appealed to me.
Of course I wasn't into it.
I respect people and their tastes, but to me, "kinky sex" is just violence that is glorified in media.

I told him, "well I'm not into that so can we not have kinky sex?"
He said, "of course."

As we progressed, he was getting more and more out of control.

He threw me on the bed, and my words meant nothing anymore.
I yelled at him to stop and I kicked him to resist, but what can a small girl do against a drunk, horny man?

For the first time, I felt that a man's body was like a weapon.
It was pushing against me, it hurt, it was biting, and it was making me bleed.
My head was spinning. My body was trying to resist, but nothing worked.

He left early in the morning, and when I woke up sober, I didn't realize right away what had happened.


Rape and violence seem like things that would never happen to you.
You never expect these things to happen to yourself.
You hear these statistics about how many women out of how many women get raped everyday, but you never think it's gonna be you.

I never realized this, but there's a tiny moment when you wake up, between the moment your mind is awake and your body is awake.
My mind awoke and it felt like a normal day, until my nerves in my body kicked in.
I suddenly felt pain everywhere.
In my mouth, on my neck, on my ribs, in my vagina.
Then, all the vigorous details of the night before was flashing back in my head.

The alcohol.
The laughing.
The biting.
The talking.
The kisses.
The pain.
The gagging.
The pain.
The yelling.
The pain.

The feeling of a man inside you that you tried to refuse.
The feeling of someone violating you.
The feeling of being forced.
The feeling of pain.

Physically terrible, but mentally excruciating pain.

I felt tears rolling down my face and I didn't want to be in my own body.
I ran to the washroom because I couldn't believe it.
I wished that if I stand in front of the mirror, I would look unharmed.

What I saw in the reflection was a bruised up, bloody, helpless, girl.

I didn't know what to do.
I cried for hours.
What could I have done to make myself feel better, when the harm was done, and it had left a scar?
A scar from which I couldn't run away from.
The cuts in my mouth and on my tongue.
The bruise shaped like a hand on my neck.
The bruises on my ribs.
The ripping feeling of my vagina.

How could I have felt better when all I could feel was physical pain?

I talked to my roommate and she told me I was raped.
She told me I need to go to the hospital so that I can file a report with the police.


Now that I think about it, maybe I should have gone to the police.
Maybe I should have filed that report.

But I didn't, and I couldn't.
In order to file a report, you mustn't take a shower or brush your teeth.

The only thing I wanted at that point was to forget and to erase everything.
I NEEDED to take a shower right away and brush my teeth.
I wanted to pretend that it didn't even happen.

After about a week, everything was back to normal.
It felt like everything was back to normal.
I never talked about it, and the scars were gone.
It didn't happen.

Now, I think it's been arond 3 or 4 months after the incident, and I realized that I'm not over it at all.

The reason being, he popped up on my news feed the other day, and I started crying.
As if his face triggered a terrible memory that lay in the depths of my consciousness.
As if he had done something to me that would flashback in my mind.

Rape is not something that happens just then and there.
It will haunt me forever.

I can't have sex.
Whenever I have feelings for a man, it's never physical anymore.
No matter how much I want to be with a man, I don't want to have sex.
My body shut down the ability to want to have sex.
My body automatically associates sex with violence.
It refuses it.

All because of a man, who couldn't put his morals before his desires.
He liked it.
Whenever I shouted "stop," he went even harder.

As I write this, I have tears rolling down my cheeks.
My hands shake.
My throat feels like it's closing up.

I guess I'm still trying to get over it.
I never officially told people who could help, so I guess writing it down helps me.

My point is, rape can happen to anyone, and this is my story.
You think it won't happen to you, and it might not, and I hope it doesn't.
But you never know.
People say stuff like that all the time, but I mean it.
YOU NEVER KNOW.
People say you can prevent rape, but you really can't.
Yes, there were some red flags that I possibly could have picked up, but I didn't.
I didn't know that they were signs.

I learned that rape is caused by the rapist, and no one else.
I thought at one point, could I have prevented this?
Did I just drink too much?
Did I just make the wrong decisions?
Was it just the difference of taste in sex?

If you ever get raped, do not think it was about you.
He had all the power.
He had the power to stop, to ask you if you're okay, to stop drinking, to go home.
ALL THE POWER.
Yes, you could have not hung out with him, you could have not drank that much, there are countless things you COULD HAVE DONE, but it wasn't your choice.
We all do things for the better, but rape is never a choice for the better.

Him choosing to violate you against your will wasn't a choice that he made for the better.
He chose to do that to you, and that was the biggest and the only mistake that was made by anyone, that night.


My final point is, it sucks.
It really does.
Everyday I look at my body and I wish I could just get a new one.
I wish I could refund it or trade it with someone.
It kills me to know that this body, the one that he touched, will be mine forever.
It kills me.
So please, please don't rape anyone.
And if you were raped, don't blame yourself.
You were the victim and he was the rapist.

In a cruel world we live in, we can't always tell ourselves that bad things are never going to happen to us.

Depression pt. 2

I've decided to write a blog entry about depression, again, while I'm experiencing my up-moments.

As I wrote in my first depression blog entry, depression gives me ups and downs.
I wrote this while I was in a deep down mode, and I explained how terrible it felt.

Right now, I just came back from a long vacation and I'm filled with super positive vibes and I'm in a super high up mode!

Everyday feels like paradise.
I look forward to living my day, whatever my plans are, and I'm barely bothered by anything.
Even though I usually hate work, every little sound while walking to work seems like it's singing to me, and I'm in pure bliss.

However, my mind is not purely happy during these times.
The thought of death is always on my mind.
As I've said before, though, the thought of death and thinking about death is not a negative thing for me.
Ever since I was young I've been okay with dying whenever, so it's not something that saddens me anymore.
Weirdly, I welcome death even more during my up-times.
I am so happy with my everydays, that I would be more okay with dying on that day.
If death came to me on my downs, I probably would be frowning and would be unhappy, but if it came during my ups, I think I would be able to welcome it with a smile on my face.

I guess reading over my previous entry and my entry now, the conclusion is that death is always on my mind, whether I'm happy about it or not.

Depression

As you may or may not know, I have been dealing with depression more a long time now.
I can't say for sure when it started, but it was a gradual build up since I was young, and it definitely took over me when I was around 16 or 17.

Although at first it swallowed me whole, and I didn't know how to deal with it, I've learned to live with it. Well, some parts of it.

Since I've never tried to get it checked by an expert, I don't know what kind of depression it is. I know that there are many kinds and I can't say for sure, but here are my experiences.

Having depression, I have terrible ups and downs. They can last up to months, or they can be short, like a week.
When I say terrible, I mean terrible.

When I'm having my ups, I feel like I can conquer the world.
I'm super motivated and healthy. I'm nice to everyone.
Specifically, I go on runs sometimes (which I rarely do), I cook my own meals, my room is always clean, and I rarely get mad at anyone.
I love myself so much during these days and I feel confident for no apparent reason.

When I'm having my downs, I feel like everyday is tasteless.
I often doze off in thought, and the thoughts are usually about death or being depressed.
When I'm depressed, I literally do not have any energy. There's dirty clothes, dirty dishes, and garbage everywhere.
I can't stand being alone, because it brings me dark thoughts and I often start crying for no reason.
Waking up is also the hardest thing. Even for food or for water, getting out of bed is the most difficult task.
The only reason why I don't and won't ever commit suicide is because I don't have the energy and motivation to do that, or to do anything in fact.

Right now, I'm in a deep down mode.
I seriously don't feel like doing anything. I hate the fact that my hair curling iron is still sitting on my desk beside me right now and not where I store it.
I hate it but I can't get myself to put it back.
Even though I can't walk across the room to put a d*mn iron away, apparently I have the energy to go out and buy myself a bubble tea blocks away.
I wish I could explain to you why but I seriously don't know.
I can probably walk across the whole city right now, but I can't put away my clothes or throw away the garbage. I just can't do it.

I also wrote this in an earlier blog entry, but I often think about death.
It's not something that scares me and if it came to me today I wouldn't be sad about it. As I said, I wouldn't take my own life, but I consider my life to be pointless, tasteless, and useless.
Wow, that does sound depressing when written down, but trust me, I'm not sad about this at all.
Yeah, I wish my life was just as glamorous as Rihanna or Beyonce, but it's not, and it's okay now.
I used to hate myself for making my life this way, and it might be true that I can still dream of an amazing life and maybe even achieve it.
The truth is, though, that I don't have the motivation and I won't be that way.

I think I've accepted the fact that depression is a part of me which I f*cking hate, and that's also why my arms welcome death.
I shouldn't say that so easily because some people would do anything to live for another day, but I don't think I deserve it and if I could give my days away to someone I would for sure.

Anyway, I guess this is the down part of me speaking.
If I recover and reach my up again, I will try to write another blog entry.

Dear Future Self

Hi,

Today is the day before your CMNS130 final.
This is your last final before summer and you have less than 24 hours.
You don't know jack sh*t.
You're getting 70% right now, but if you get 0% on participation (which you will), your grade will be 56%.
You must get AT LEAST 56% to pass this course.
What the f*ck.
If you went to class, JUST PHYSICALLY WENT to tutorials, you would've been at 70%.
You literally screwed yourself over.

And because you didn't bother going to class, you don't know anything.
You're trying to think of how you're going to write this essay, but you don't even understand the question.

Anyway, my point is, if you're going to go to school, just do it.
I know it's really hard sometimes, and you just want to say f*ck it all and never go to class, but I will say this because I know.
If you give up now, your future self will suffer. A lot.

I feel so terrible right now.
All it took is just physically going there.
Please. Just go.
The more productive day you have, the happier you will be for the rest of the day.
And you KNOW that. YOU KNOW. You know because everytime you skip class and you lie in bed all day, you feel terrible.
Yet you do it over and over, knowing it destroys you every time.

Just go. It's hard to get up everyday and go somewhere you hate everyday.
But people go through hard times and that's the only way people get to better places.
Better places only feel better because you've had worse.
It takes strength to do something as easy as just physically going to school. And I know that.
But because it takes strength, you'll be able to live happier, knowing that you did it. You used your strength to just go there.

It's all for yourself. I can tell you how I feel right now, but no matter what, only the present self can influence you.
And I know that and understand that, but I'm telling you that the effort you make today will help you later. I promise.

It's okay to be easy on yourself. But it's only okay if you're able to get sh*t done.
Sometimes, it's just as important to be harder on yourself and push yourself.
It's not easy but I can't emphasize enough that you'll thank yourself in the future.
So just please listen to me this one time and go to class.

From,

You