mental health

A Letter to the “Man” Who Called Me Crazy

*This post contains subject matter that may be a trigger. Again, I am not a danger to myself or others. I had my therapy appointment yesterday. I encourage everyone to seek professional help.*

Dear man child,

“You seem obsessed… it’s kinda scary.” “You’re just so attached to me. I hope you find the right doctor.” “You’re crazy.” Those are the words you said to me. Those are the words I want to thank you for. Had it not been for those words, I would have cried myself to sleep last night wondering why you can’t see that I care for you.

Something in me snapped last night. When I read those simple words, “You’re crazy” I got myself back. Anyone who truly cares for me would never call me crazy. And I knew in that moment I was not only in a battle against you, but a battle against my own self. A battle I was desperate to win.

See, the past few weeks I’ve been waiting around for someone to save me. I begged my friends, anyone to do something to save me. I couldn’t find my strength. When you showed back up I began to feel anxious. Not because I’m attached to you, but because for so long I’ve felt there is no escaping you. You always show back up, it’s just a matter of time. You’ll find me again, I know it. Whether you’re searching for me on social media, or I run into you one day, I know this isn’t the end of our story. And that’s okay.

It’s okay because you no longer have power over me. I made that clear to you last night. I told you that if you contact me again, I will get the law involved. And damn, am I serious. I’m not going to stand for emotional abuse any longer. You’re gone, I’m not afraid to get rid of anyone else who tries to drag me back down. You helped me find my strength again.

Now, I want to show the world just what a crazy, badass, strong woman looks like who has been through abuse. Physical, mental, and sexual abuse. Someone who has come out strong after this, but still seems to be weak every now and then.

This is what strength looks like when you have so little of it left. It’s a bandage to hide a new scar. It’s a shirt that hasn’t been washed in weeks. It’s a light makeup application with bright lipstick to make it seem like I put effort into how I looked. It’s a cigarette in anticipation of what’s coming next. 

You didn’t message me at all yesterday, and I’m thankful for that. Well, until last night, anyway. You gave me a chance to live my day. I went to my therapy appointment, this photo was taken beforehand. This photo was minutes before I would tell my therapist that I was self harming again. Before I would tell him you’ve shown back up. Before I would look him in the eyes and say, “I’m not doing so good.”

This is a woman ashamed of her scars. This is me after I found myself again. Waking up to a new day, with a reminder of the past. Which is all you are to me now, the past. I am ashamed because I let someone who cares so little have so much control over my state of mind. I let you drive myself to depression. I let you make me feel numb again. All of my emotional energy was being drained into our conversations. 

Now, I’ve gotten my emotional energy back. I can feel the pain of this scar, and it doesn’t feel good. I can feel the love in my heart for myself, and that does feel good. I can feel the stress of having to get work done, and it suprisingly feels great.

 I have battle wounds, battle scars. And that’s okay. It shows just how strong I am. That I can at one moment be so broken, and the next pick myself back up again. With the help of my God, my friends, and myself I will not fall. I may stumble again, but it won’t be because of you. I keep a screenshot of last night’s conversation to remind myself of how strong I need to be.

 I have not blocked your number, for I’m not hiding anymore. When I change my number, I will not give it to you. If you find me again, I will not be hurt by you. The moment you called me crazy, I lost all sympathy for you. I lost all respect for you. 

I do, however, still care. I told you that my friend and I would pray for you this week, and I will continue to do so. I will not contact you. I will not lower myself to make you feel better. My life begins now, as free as a bear in the wild. I’m coming back out of hibernation. And this time I will enjoy the sunlight on my face.

Stay strong, take care of yourself. But don’t you dare make another human being feel as worthless as I allowed you to make me feel.



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