Your life has been a silent struggle; a roller coaster in the dark, sending you in directions that you least expect, and jerking you from side to side. And then, just as you see light at the end of the tunnel, you spiral back down into the abyss and keep on twirling and twisting in endless circles.

          Only you can feel the feelings you feel. Only you can fully understand it. No one else.

          And here’s the thing:.... Which is why I’m here to remind you that I hear you, and that you will deal with it. I know how the self-hate reverberates off the walls of your cranium so frequently that it feels almost normalized within your already-cluttered head. You’ve accepted that “This is just how it is for you.” You’ve convinced yourself that “different” equals “broken;” that you are broken. Unfixable. A misfit toy that must be repaired or, better yet, trashed. To the naked eye you look fine, but under the microscope you are flawed. But I’ll let you in on a little secret: no one else is looking through that microscope but you. Not a single other person is fixating on the things you magnify in your own mind.

          I wish I could reach out and tell someone to hear you sooner, just to relieve some of the pain. I wish you could know that everything is going to turn out just fine; not perfect, but okay. All these worries and anxieties are merely growing pains. You’ll carry the scars for a long time, unable to forget what it felt like to be you, at the age you are now. It hurts to think so poorly of yourself.