My name’s Chelsea and I’m writing to you from the safety of my computer. It’s not just safe for me, though. It’s safe for you, too.
And you over there in the closet with the phone: it’s also safe for you!
You may think you’re all alone. You probably tell yourself all sorts of negative, think-they’re-true statements about how no one cares. I know; I tell myself crap A LOT. But I got on here tonight to tell you one specific thing:
Tell that voice in your head to shut it, because YES I DO care about you. The only thing that Negative Nelly is accurate about is that I don’t really know you -but only in the sense that I have no idea what your blood type is, or any of your identifying information if I wanted to open a line of credit using your name.
I really don’t have to “know” you because we share a common, core attribute. It’s a doozy of a shared characteristic; like conjoined twins level of sharing. It’s this: you and I constantly fight our own minds.
We know The Beast.
If you were to come out of your dark corners, safe houses, and attempts to avoid eye contact; you know you’d notice it. When I venture out in public and succeed in speaking with another living human, I can see it. I know the feeling of darkness so well that I can recognize it within another.
Unfortunately, I can also see people’s aversions, their attempts to hide their souls like an indecent bather, and their refusal to connect. We’re not here to head off social anxiety just yet, though.
We’re here for YOU.
Please don’t withdraw. I want you back. I know, when you’re in the darkest corner of your mind, that you are avoiding any sort of stimuli. You tell yourself that the future is nothing but this depressive sameness FOREVER.
It’s. not. true.
Well, mating socks really is going to go on -THAT subject’s not helping, Brain. (I told you I have negative self-talk issues.)
Getting back to you: I fo’ reals know that life is not always crap. The trick is that you have to get out of the crap pile just a tad to make that a reality.
Wanna know how?
1. Come out and “talk” to some of us. I like to listen because I need people to listen to me, too. From the safety of our own devices, we can reciprocally connect and support one another.
2. Get to a counselor; a good one. If you can’t get up the nerve or funds to go, have a friend or family member take you. They’d love to help you; family and friends are weird like that.
3. Learn about Cognitive Behavioral Therapy and DO IT. I’m still working on this one; you know, daily. This positive thought stuff really works, though.
4. Take medications if you need to. Also note that they are never meant to be used on their own. Every medical professional I’ve spoken with about this topic has told me that medicine must go hand-in-hand with therapy.
5. If steps 2-4 are not getting the best results in a few months, try a different counselor and follow the steps again.
At the very least, know that you’re not alone. You’ve got a whole, freaking army of people in the same boat. We’re not the best crew to man this thing, but we’re making the most of it.
Come with us; we could use a hand.