Dear Stranger

Dear Stranger

You will believe nothing I say to you. You will think I’m deluded and avoiding the truth, but that’s okay. I don’t need you to believe me, I just need you out of a drunken haze enough to listen to me. I know you feel nauseous thinking about the fact that the world is spinning with someone as parasitic as you feel still being on it. I know you feel like it’s all over for you, that everything you do is wrong, and that everyone including their grandma hates you. I won’t say those things aren’t true, I know you think they are with every cell in your body.

You’re aware that this level of existence is simply incompatible with human life. You feel you’re going to drop dead any day now, like you’re waiting for a heart attack or something relatively painless.

I know that you have no faith in the doctors and nurses around you, you feel like they’re all wasting their time and propping up a corpse. The truth is you’ll meet some great one but for every great one there’s ten atrociously bad ones. You feel like a permanent resident at the bottom of the world and that anyone who tries to help you will only maim themselves, prove themselves a fool.

Believe it or not you recover from this relatively unscathed. You’ll get to the point where you feel safe wearing a belt again, feel relatively safe around alcohol at parties. You’re life isn’t over just yet buddy, and I know you fucking hate me for saying that. You recover from this episode of depression but you’re still a bit of a pessimist afterwards (let’s face it, we were never going to be optimists were we!).

Do you remember how it felt to get angry about the things that mattered to you? You were involved in the world once, and yes, I know you’re acutely aware of that fact. It’s what makes the way you are now so painful for you.

Eventually, and I’m not going to lie it’s gonna take a while, you’ll laugh until you cry again, attend socials happily sober, occupy your days. You’ll be able to shower and get out of bed. And now I’m going to drop a real bombshell on you – you deserve happiness. I know you don’t think that right now, you don’t think you deserve breadcrumbs, but just wait and see.

You’ll get to the point where you’re able to write about all of this, and I mean all of it. The suicide attempts, the alcohol, the hospitals. You’ll write about them and a lot more too. You’ve got a lot ahead of you, you can learn to cycle or take up writing seriously again, you can travel in the summer. I know I may as well be throwing manure at you saying these things. I also know you don’t think you’ll make it to summer. I’m here to tell you that you will make it to the summer, and beyond. I believe in you buddy. Keep on keepin’ on.

All the best,

Karl

 

P.S. Quit the macho bullshit – there’s strength in vulnerability!

P.S.S. Also a Radiohead album does come out, on the 8th of May, and you’ll dig it.

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