Tuesday, December 17th 2019 1:05 am

I got signed out of tumblr and I signed back in but into the wrong account, and I read all my old letters. We’re not friends anymore, but I’m friends with Maisie and Em and they’re better, I cut my hair, I stayed at dads and am back now. I go to the vinery now. A bunch of other shit like a third cat, and a leopard gecko.

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Being Fine And Being Good Aren’t The Same

Dear Self, 

Some moments I’ll be fine and a second later I’ll have to hide my face and make sure no part of me is visible, not even an outline of my fat ugly body. I’ll be happy and fine and then suddenly I have all my insecurities whispering in my ear all the things wrong with me and my body. 

If I say I’m feeling fine why don’t you question me because fine is just above feeling like crap. If I say I’m feeling good you ask why, but when I say I’m fine you nod your head or continue what we call small talk.

M.

Dear M,

I only really write to P and myself, but right now I am writing to you.

You don’t have anxiety, or depression. You aren’t bi or pan. My proof you ask?

I broke and showed you and MA my cuts, a little while later in gym you took your jacket off, for no reason by the way, and showed me your arm and said “MA pushed me into a bush!” but she didn’t, part of me wished she did so I texted her asking if she did, of course she said no. 

Sometimes after that you would come up to me with you arms on display for me to see like a trophy case full of the most wonderful achievements in your life. It was so triggering, the only thought running through my head “I made them do this, it’s my fault, they didn’t do this before they knew about my cuts, I’m such a horrible person!” and it was hell.

You told P that when I found out about your cuts it was in the cloakroom and I pulled up your sleeves and said cutting was for attention and was stupid. 

Darling if I thought it was stupid and for attention why would I drag a blade across my own skin, why would I be so embarrassed about it if anyone saw a cut, even though the excuse that my bird did it always worked. I have small lovebirds, their talons cannot cut like a knife it should have been obvious damnit.

I came out as bi, nobody really knew, mainly you, oh and the friends you told, without my permission. Not long later you come out as bi and make it a big thing. Your friend basically forces us to date but the way she does it is almost like she’s challenging my sexuality. 

I came out as pan after that, you said something like this, “what’s pan? I’m pan! I’m definitely pan! What is pan even?” you asked me what it meant then proceeded to tell me you were pan without understanding the actual definition. 

I one day tell you and MA some of the problems in my life and you suddenly start complaining about your own, MA tells me how she wishes she has cereal for dinner, after I explained that my parents never make me dinner and when they do nobody tells me so it’s all gone or cold and gross. Oh my bad your life is so horrible because you get home cooked meals every night instead of cereal or nothing at all. 

There is so many more things you’ve done to me but these are the easiest to prove.

I Realized Something

Dear Friend,

I’m not your first choice am I? When I see things about not being anyones first choice despite them being your best friend, I always think about how I’m your first choice. In reality I don’t think I am, I think if you were closer to Drew, as in a way you knew he wanted to be your friend, and you were given the option to be friends with me or him, you’d probably choose him. 

I cannot confidently say I think you’d save my life over his. 

You probably can’t even confidently say that.

If I was in a life or death situation, how many people could you also place in that situation with me and not confidently say you’d save me rather than them? If A=me, X=the people you can’t confidently say you’d let die to save me, and -=the gun,

A - X,

X= who? D perhaps? 

Dear Friend,

Screw you, telling me I shouldn’t be concerned about my mother. Who are you to tell me. She’s smoking up to 5 times in a hour sometimes, of course I’m concerned.

I have every right to be concerned when the only times I see her is when she goes out the back door for a smoke or when I’m forced to sleep in her bed cuz J has friends over so my dad has to sleep in my bed. I have every right to be concerned when I missed out on a proper childhood because my mother was busy smoking, cutting, screaming, and brushing off everything I said. 

I lost my childhood to her. I just wish I could make mistakes and my parents understand that when I’m older I won’t be able to make mistakes so they should let me now.

I wish my parents would understand I’m not perfect.

Mother if you think I have an eating disorder get me a therapist don’t just sit and listen to me throw up a couple rooms over.

I have every right to be concerned when she’s slowly ruining her own life.

She’s exactly how I feel when I wake up at 5 pm and sit in my bed and eat for the hours I’m awake, wasting yet another day. I don’t want to grow up and be like her wallowing in self pity. I don’t want to feel like I’ve done nothing but be a wife who gets cheated on and sexually abused. I don’t want to be her. Is it sexual abuse if she goes along with it, no. I think she goes along with it, but what do I know. I’m just a pathetic child, a child who knows too much because she’s observant and goes through peoples shit.

I’m sorry I’m concerned for my mother who’s wasting away her own life and blatantly lies to me.

I Did It Again

Dear Friend, 

I jumped to conclusions again. I assumed you were ignoring me but I just forgot you were sick, you were just asleep. I’m sorry.

My mum didn’t take me to get a prescription today. If we don’t go tomorrow I will probably have a mental breakdown everything is too much to take. I need meds to control my emotions and anxiety, I know my anxiety isn’t bad but maybe meds would stop my crazy outbursts. 

I hate not being able to control my emotions, I’m 13 not 7. 

I’m Sorry.

Dear Friend,

I am so very sorry. Your problems are so much worse than mine yet I cry and I self harm and I weep in my room for hours. I force myself to throw up the foods I’ve eaten, I consider killing myself, but my problems are not bad. My problems are merely nothing. I am so sorry I exist, I’m sure you’d leave me to be friends with D in an instance. I’m sorry I can’t be good enough for you. I regret so many things each day, I regret being sad, I should be happy and less lazy. I should stop using my ADHD as an excuse to be lazy, I need to start doing my homework. I need to smile more, cry less. I have to eat healthily, work out more. Throw away my blades, shower every single night. The list goes on and on. I need to stop talking so much, I need to stop overreacting. I’m sorry that I don’t experience similar problems to you, I’m sorry I basically experience no problems, I’m extremely sorry that I get mad at Megan for faking depression when that is practically what I am doing. I’m sorry that I can’t ever understand your anxiety or your panic attacks. I’m sorry I just sat there, I’m sorry I didn’t say anything,

I’m sorry I exist.

Your Gender

Dear Friend,

You’re questioning your gender again, this time as a demiboy. You don’t know I know that you think you’re a demiboy, or maybe you do cuz I suggested it to you. I will no longer use C because that’s the first letter of the name you don’t think you like anymore. I hope it gets easier for you.

Love,          Alex.

Your New Colour Coding System

Dear C,

You found out I knew your colour system so you made another, but I had your phone in my math class. I’m sorry I went through your notes, I didn’t mean to. I know your colour coding system, I have photos. The photos are upside down though, I don’t know how that happened. 

I’m typing this as you’re here, you said that you love how I can touch type. You told me that you never know what you’re gonna type so you can’t type fast. You told me you’re better at copying something while typing it up.

I also found your tumblr. I didn’t mean to go through your notes and tumblr. I really didn’t. I didn’t mean to translate your french note to english so I’d know what it said. I really didn’t I just did it and I didn’t want to, I’m really sorry. 

I’m Sam on your tumblr. Sam, like Ham Bagel/Michael, your brothers old friend that we bug, he’s cool I like him. I really do like D, its just that he doesn’t like me. I don’t want you to be friends with him because you already seem to prefer him. 

My right side is in pain now, and I don’t know why. I ate ice cream, too much. You had some too, but I’m still mad at myself.

Love,          Alex.

6:00 am issues.

Dear C,

You have a colour coding system for emotions. You liked the photo, probably because you know I go through your liked photos. You said it was a purple day, I was confused until I messaged you and you told me you had a colour coding system. You don’t know I know what each colour means. 

I went to sleep at 10-ish and woke up at 2:30-ish. I slept for 10-20 minutes a few times throughout the day after 5:00 pm roughly. I felt weird all day, I was shaking and all I ate for lunch from 12:34-1:20 was chips and chocolate, and an energy drink. I went and threw up in the school toilets, twice. Once during English and the next time while I was skipping Foods. I just could not stop shaking. I felt so horrible, and I really don’t want to fall back into this cycle. The constant shaking, falling asleep in classes, always being annoyed, always feeling sick, and the only difference this time basically is that I’ll be throwing up and eating less.

I don’t want to be stuck in this cycle again, last time it lasted almost two school terms. I don’t want that. If I go to the doctors I just hope they don’t have to take blood until my scars have healed. I also hope nothing about an eating disorder comes up. 

I’m sorry I didn’t message you when you posted about your emotions being orange and yellow, you wanted to talk to someone and for someone to check up on you, I was just asleep. I’m sorry I’m always sleeping at random times. I can’t help it. My left side down by my hips hurts a lot right now, I’m unsure as of why. It’s 6:01 am right now. It was like 5:50-ish when I started this. 

I don’t want to go to school.

Love,          Alex. 6:02 am.

Did I Do Something Wrong?

Dear C,

I barely slept, maybe almost two hours. The feeling I had when I was awake was weird. I stopped and laid down on the ground a few times and I felt so weird. 

I went to London Drugs with M, we ate chocolate and chips in English while finishing a movie. I also drank an energy drink, a fruit punch rockstar. 

I skipped last period, foods. We were doing sewing and I don’t know how to thread the machine and I was supposed to be done the dot to dot paper last class. I hid in the bathroom. Before that during English I asked to use the washroom and threw up some of the food. I felt so gross and kept shaking. I threw up more later while sitting around in the washroom waiting for school to end. I still feel weird. I don’t understand why, I wish it would stop.

I don’t think you like me all that much, you’ve been so distanced. You always turn down hanging out but the day before when I ask you say sure. We haven’t hung out properly after school in awhile. Did I do something? Do you hate me? I know it’s rude for me to hate the fact that you have anxiety but I can’t help it, it’s getting worse and it’s stopping you from talking to me, hanging out with me, and you randomly run off. I’m unsure if you hate it or not when I run after you. I’m sorry.

I don’t hate you for your anxiety, I hate your anxiety because it stops you from being my friend. You seem more comfortable around others, have I done something wrong? Did I make a mistake? Did I say something that you hated? Do you just realize you hate me? I’m sorry, I really am. I’m unaware of what I’ve done but I’m really sorry I did it.

Love,          Alex. 

4:00 am issues.

Dear C,

It’s currently 4:27 am. I fell asleep earlier today, I was extremely tired. I’ve been so drained of energy. You’re questioning your gender but you think you understand your sexuality a bit more. You learned your crush on D was platonic, I assumed it was him the entire time. 

I have a tendency to message you on instagram or messages when you happen to be busy or asleep, and I don’t understand why because I admit so much stupid shit. That’s how I confessed that I went on a two day fast and ate then purged. I just admitted that I find it sad how I used to sing along to songs all the time but now I rarely do and if I do it’s quietly and you can’t tell that I suck at singing, yet you totally know I do. At the end of last year I was still singing loudly and being crazy. I’m falling deeper into a self conscious mindset. 

It’s probably gonna lead to me doing many horrible things but what can you do. 

I put on some weight and my stomach was looking really big and I had a bit of a breaking point and started sobbing. I also threw up a cinnamon bun and it burned my throat worse than anything else so far, I think you might assume that I’ve stopped purging but knowing you, you’re just assuming I’m still doing it. 

How do people sleep normally. I’m not sure if I have insomnia or if I just stay up on my phone and laptop and that keeps me up. It’s probably the latter. 

I hate myself so fucking much, awhile back I cut on my arms, for the first time I did both arms. It’s already warm and both of us were dying while walking home. I just could not take off my hoodie. They seem so normal to me, the scars. They’re healing, they’ll be gone in a bit. It could take like a month more though. 

I really hope you’re doing okay. I’m still conflicted on the fact that I think your uncle did something sexual, he might just be holding yours hips and whispering dirty things in your ear, but I’m not sure. I’m really scared. I just wish everything was okay.

I have a problem, I always go through peoples stuff, I know he did something because you had a secret rant instagram on your phone and I read it. I’m sorry. I did stuff like that with my mum. That’s how I figured out that she cut, that she’s being sexually abused, that my dad hired an escort, that my mum has anti-depressants, and so much else. 

I have so many problems I can’t help it. I can’t help going through peoples stuff, I think it’s my ADHD. I do it to distract myself because I’m always talking in my head and I can’t stop it, I just wish I could stop it. I’m not schizophrenic, it’s not like that. It’s like when you read something in your head, but it never ends. I repeat the words people say almost the same time as they say them and it’s a problem. I always miss what people say and have trouble in school.

I hate the fact I go through peoples shit so fucking much. 

Love,          Alex. 4:48 am

Buying Your Silence Isn’t Okay

Dear C,

You will be happy, you will be called the correct pronouns, you will have the name you want. You will be seen as you truly are, a guy. You won’t have to live at home forever, remember that. I wish you’d listen to me and come stay at mine for a bit, I don’t want you staying at you’re house, I don’t think it’s safe. 

No, it’s not normal for your mother to drag you off a chair and buy your silence so you won’t tell anyone. It’s her fault, not yours. You didn’t ‘push’ her to do anything. It’s her fault, nothing you would have said justifies what she did.

She has no right to tell you your OCD is ‘self diagnosed’ when your therapist, that she’s forcing you to see, told you that you do indeed have OCD. OCD is an easy thing to point out in a person in some cases, it was obvious you had it, to me at least because I’m your best friend and I pay a lot fo attention to you. 

She’s buying your silence again today, and it bothers me. 

You don’t like germs, she told your therapist that, yet she purposefully drank out of your straw. When you asked for a new one she should have said sorry and gotten you one, she shouldn’t have slapped you for asking. No it’s not normal my friend. 

Of course you’re scared of her, she’s becoming abusive and I’m scared for you. I know you told me not to call the cops because you don’t want social services to get involved, but if it gets really bad I have to. I promised to tell you if I’d call them, and I’m keeping to my promise. 

I wish you’d listen to me, I wish you’d stay with me.

I hope you’re safe for now.

Love,          Alex. (Not my birth name, I happen to be non-binary and I’m questioning what name I’d want to go by when I move out.)