A Letter to a Friend

I know you’ll say you don’t remember, but for me, it was like looking at my reflection in a mirror.  There was so much that I wanted to say to you, but I couldn’t figure out how to open my mouth and give you my words because I’ve never known how to express myself to others.  I stared at you like a deer in headlights while my head drowned in all of the things I wanted to say to you.    Sad thing is, I still can’t work up the nerve because I don’t particularly enjoy my own vulnerability.  As they’re still floating around in my skull, I still feel the need to tell you, not necessarily to help you, but to give you support and let you know that although our situations may have been different, I’ve been through the same things that you’ve been enduring.  And I’m still working through them just as you are.

I know what it feels like to feel like nothing, like you have no purpose, like there’s nothing holding you down to Earth, like no one would care if you were gone.  I know how it Is to feel so dead inside that it seems to seep out onto your skin.  There were times when these feeling were so strong that I questioned my very existence.  I felt nothing— no emotion, not some vast emptiness, but feelings so strong that I felt nothing at all.  I’ve wandered outside in negative degree weather unable to feel the cold at all.  I’ve nearly stepped out in front of traffic because I felt so unreal that I thought maybe they’d just pass right through me.  I’ve wanted to slice my neck open to see if my body was actually filled with blood.  I’ve questioned my sanity because I’m never able to figure out what triggers this state of mind.  Continue reading

A Letter to Readers

The other day, a woman strolled in my place of work and struck up a conversation that didn’t end until about 40 minutes after the place had closed.   She told me her life story, her dreams, her accomplishments.  We talked about education, art, and imagination.  We discussed the changes that come with every generation introduced to the world.  Or I should say she talked while kept a good, continuous head-nod going, accompanied by agreeable “mmhmmm”s and eyebrow raises to try and show my participation in the one-sided, two-hour lecture conversation.

As I was frantically searching for a way out listening, I realized that this woman was talking about some real deep, intellectual stuff.  She told me that in order to combat feelings of inadequacy and make something of myself, I need to unleash my creativity — make art, write, start a blog, play an instrument, express myself.

I’ve heard this cliché bull a million times, but for some reason this time it stuck with me.  Minus those artists, musicians, millionaires, etc, a lot of us never think to stop and give ourselves credit.  We can get so sucked into our mediocrity that we, in turn, convince ourselves that we have nothing to offer, nothing worth saying.  This is my effort to combat these feelings that a lot of us hold within ourselves.  This is one of my outlets for creativity and expression through the writing of letters never sent.  I invite you all to make it one of yours too. We all have things to say.  Feel free to comment, respond, or to share your own letters(email me to submit: letterstotheunnamed@gmail.com) Come in, take a look around, make yourself comfortable, have a drink.  Mi casa es su casa.  Enjoy and thank you.

-Yours truly