i've met someone new
we're becoming friends
Hello. How are you?
I am alive
I hurt, however
friend. I have (good) news.
This is a hopeful story with a positive end. However, there is mention of suicidal ideation. Please be advised and refrain from reading if you need to. You are loved, and there is help: non-carceral resources »>
Lately, I have crept in low spaces where I am crouched down and it’s hard to see. Scrunched up into ugly form not worthy of my existence.
As I stand, there is a glint of light. I squint, and my muscles cramp and I move, move, slowly, out into a higher place. I can see clearly now though it hurts.
Here, I meet someone who loves me like I’ve known them forever. Our paths have crossed before, though I’d not recognized them until this day. This someone sees my wholeness. My ugly form and my beauty and my everything. I would like to befriend this someone, this someone who loves me.
This friend is loud and fearless, joyful and strong. They’re gorgeous, grounded—therapist-approved. And I am still getting to know them. The more I know, the more I love.
It’s National Suicide Prevention Month in the U.S. This Monday, I shared a poem from my forthcoming memoir Pansy with one of my favorite newsletters,
about my history and realities with this sullen ideation.
This post is dedicated to all who’ve lived, stumbled into, or found themselves trapped in any sort of these low places. I hope that you, too, meet a friend within yourself who helps pull all of your pieces out and back together again. I’m coming out very slowly but also know that I might return here again. Hopefully next time my friend will find me real quick, or go yell at my demons to move out the damn way. A lifelong advocate in this valiant struggle to thrive.
I’ll leave you all with this poem I like to share, at least quarterly, by Langston Hughes:
“Folks, I'm telling you, birthing is hard and dying is mean-so get yourself a little loving in between.”
I love the poem so much. Thank you for sharing it with Rooted readers. 💚💚💚