To the black sheep, the outcasts, the lonely...
Even after I tried to kill myself, for several years after that I was still miserable and depressed and thought about ending it all, all the time. But something strange happened, something I didn't think would happen.
Time went on, and all of a sudden, I was happy. Not just happy as a momentary feeling, nothing the result of instant gradification. I'm talking about happiness as a state of mind. I wake up most days, and I'm honestly thrilled to be alive. I look in the mirror and I can tell myself that everything is OK. Before when I did told myself that, deep down inside I knew it was a lie, and that perhaps nothing could be further from the truth. Nothing was alright. And as I sit here and type this, and I get all choked up and tears creep into my eyes, I know deep down inside that everything is alright. I am no longer lying to myself, it really happened. I never thought I could live this life. The happy, simple life.
And I just wish I could go out into the world and find all the people like me. The black sheep, the outcasts, the lonely. I wish I could hug each and every one of them, hold them in my arms, tell them that everything is going to be alright. Tell them that all you have to do is survive, just keep going, no matter how much it hurts. One day it will stop hurting. You just have to hold on. But I can't. This is the best I can do.
I know that horrible, black, endless abyss inside. I've been there, I've been so lost there. I used to live there. I remember looking around in the darkness and asking, praying, begging for things to change. It seemed like time would stand still and the pain would last forever. That I would never get out.
But time goes on and will keep going on. And one day things will change, and one day you'll be looking out of a window, amazed at how fast time really does go by. And you will be happy.
Please, don't do it. Please, just hold on.
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