Dear Low Point,

Dear Low Point,

You made me aware of how to be independent, although I felt so alone, terrified and unsure of what my future would be. You taught me that friends were the most valuable thing I could have, though I had none at the time I spent with you. You made me afraid to take the next step, and afraid to make a new friend, in fear of becoming too attached and hurt. You made me afraid of being too loud, made me feel discontented with my creativity, but because of you, I also learned in the end that it was better to be creative than to not. I grew from the times we were locked together in my room, when I would listen to the negating voice you had, and the submissive one you tended to give me.

Then, just when I made friends and started turning my life around, you came back to teach me about love. That it isn’t about quickness, and it isn’t supposed to be forced. Thank you for the night I found out that I couldn’t live with the fact I was pretending to love someone. Thank you for helping me love myself, in return. Thank you for helping me find new bonds and interests, to compare what was and what could be, in the hopes and the blueprint for a better future. I appreciate that I can be cordial, funny, and so many different things, but also that you taught me that one person cannot define all these things in me and call it a day. Thank you for helping me find people that see me as they are, open ended, and a work in progress. I appreciate the times I spent wallowing about what seemed like a terrible situation, that I couldn’t find a way out of. Thank you for allowing me to live past being scared still to the point I couldn’t breathe, because I was holding my breath for better air that you told me was coming. It’s hard to keep reminding myself that without you, there wouldn’t be sunlight, but it is also hard to remind myself that there is still hope. Sometimes it is hard to know I will be okay, and sometimes I cope in the wrong ways. Sometimes I feel guilty for having good days, but I try to hold onto them for as long as I can. I struggle with you every so often, but it’s not your job to be liked by me, it’s your job to help me do my own work in a way, to build myself up and to persevere through you.

Madalyn