Dear Me
An Honest Letter to Myself
Hey, it’s me,
I know you’re probably tired and in pain, and you may not want to use one of your spoons to read this — but I promise it’s worth it.
Honestly, I just want to say how proud I am of you. Life has thrown you a few wildcards, and it’s been a rough few months, but through it all, you’ve managed to keep a smile on your face. I know it hurts, but I’m proud of you for not falling back into our old patterns.
You may not want to admit it, but you know those thoughts we get — the ones that tell you you’re worthless, a burden, that it’s not worth it to keep going, and that we should just end it all. I know how hard it is. I know some days you just want to give up, and that you didn’t ask for any of this. You’re feeling every emotion under the sun — from guilt and grief to hope and joy. This is normal.
You’re allowed to grieve the loss of your old life. Honestly, I’m not sure that grief will ever fully go away. But I do know it will lessen over time, and one day you’ll wake up and your first thought won’t be Why me? What did I do to deserve this?
You are not a burden.
You are not a waste of space.
Your worth is not based on your productivity.
Your happiness should never be based on other people’s opinions.
I know it’s hard to believe sometimes. I know your world feels like it’s crashing down around you. But you have to push through it. There will be good days and bad days — we can’t avoid that — but we can cherish the good ones.
From the slight breeze in the air and the bumblebee buzzing from flower to flower, to the leaves falling and cozy nights in front of the fireplace — this may not be the life you imagined, but I promise it’s no less worthy. You still get to enjoy the small things. You have the opportunity to stop and truly smell the roses.
We were forced to slow down, to step away from the hustle and bustle society demands, and it showed us how much we were missing trying to meet society’s expectations.
We were not born to be productive machines obsessed with a piece of paper we call money.
We were born to experience life —
To feel the wet grass under our bare feet,
The fresh evergreen air in our lungs,
And a hug from someone we love that heals even the deepest wounds.
Life may never look the same, but that doesn’t make it any less worthy of living.
Keep going and stay strong, my love.
Lil Miss Chronically Ill ❤️