Response to the suicide letter I wrote 15 years ago

Here is my response to the suicide letter I wrote 15 years ago:                                                       Breathe. Your pain will not remain unnoticed. Flush the pills. Dump the vodka. Throw away the razors.  You will not be leaving here in a body bag to the fault of your own hand. You are going to get through this . Look down at your arms, now charred with scars....This means you've survived. So please, for me, just take a breath. There is no need to feel so hopeless. You are so desperate for relief that you've blinded yourself from reality. You're heart is not as delicate as it feels and you will soon show yourself that you are capable of so much more. Something so much bigger. So, breathe. You're not a quitter, but it's time to give up plotting your own demise. You will fail and for the first time, that failure will be beautiful. Let yourself feel. Tears are the souls way of cleansing itself. So cry. Scream. Get angry. Be sad. Just, allow yourself to feel it.  Don't waste over half of your life running. Drugs will not vaporize your heartache. It will lay there, dorment in the corner of every room; waiting in suspended animation,  for your return. You will undoubtedly succeed in being an addict. You will sacrifice all thats good in an attempt to drown out all that's bad. Yes; you are going to hurt to a point that will bring you to your knees. Let it. And, you will hurt to a point that will take your breath away. Hear this echoing in your head, and please, just breathe. Stop setting such unreasonable expectations of yourself. You keep setting yourself up to fail, and you won't. Perfect is unattainable. There will always be someone that's prettier; skinnier; funnier. So stop starving yourself of sustenance. The number on the scale is unreliable. Beauty is measured in heart, not pounds. And my god, your heart is beautiful. I know right now you think that life is better off without you. Breathe. I know it doesnt make sense right now and thats okay. You're scared, and thats okay too. Soon a day will come when you are the fixture of somebodys universe. The sun, in her eyes, will rise and set by you. And, she'll call you Mommy. I know it doesn't make much sense right now, but it will, I promise.  Yours is not the only ship you'd sink by checking out of here. You have angels on both sides of the line, fighting hard to show you that you cannot simply just "disappear". Your thinking is clouded so you cannot see that even the worst of pain eventually subsides. But not death. Death is a permanent fixture in life. Death does not turn back. Fifteen years from now you're gonna look back on this, with a sigh; then take a deep breath and ask yourself, "why?" Fifteen years from now you'll find yourself sitting in that same still darkness you've always feared....quietly watching as your daughters chest rises and falls as she sleeps. And, you'll smile as you take a deep breath, and think to yourself,"My god I almost missed this."  So please. I'm begging you. Do. Not. Forget.To. Breathe. ♡Me

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

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