A Love Letter to Myself

Sometimes the best way to speak life into myself is looking at the retrospect of my subconscious mind and giving it free will to speak. This was a letter I wrote to myself months ago that somehow motivates me to keep going.

Sounds dark and twisted but it’s the reality of me and my mind. I created this blog for peace of mind and freedom to speak, even if it’s only me tuning in. At least I know I stayed true to myself. So before you read what I wrote, just know, I’ve had a change of heart on somethings. I wrote this from a depressed state of mind and I realize that it is apart of my life but I will not let depression rule my life.

I love myself for who I am, and for who I am becoming.

“This is my goodbye

Everyday I try and figure out where it is that I fit in. Turns out, I stand out everywhere that I go. I have no place here, in California, in Tennessee, in life, I have no real place. Everywhere I end up I want to turn around and go a different direction. I ended up in Memphis this time and I don’t know why I did this. Deep down I do, but I’m not going to share all of the details, I’ll keep that part to myself. I hate the version of me that I’ve become but I also love her so bad. I just don’t know who I am anymore. Am I Cyrah? Cy? Cmoney? A daughter? Am I even a friend? People think I’m crazy, I know I am crazy. I started my life over and want a redo again. I’m not satisfied with my studies, I’m doing really bad actually. I lost all motivation. I let people walk over me then when I get fed up I get rid of them. I hate how nice I am to people who don’t deserve it I hate how spiteful I get when I realize how much I’ve been ran through.
I looked at myself in the mirror and reassured myself that my 16 year old version of me would be so proud of the woman I’ve become. I keep trying to convince myself that I’m courageous, successful, talented, beautiful. But it’s all rooted by being crazy. No one in my family does the things that I do but I do them and somehow make it look normal. But it’s not. Turns out I have a mood disorder that runs my entire life. I put on a good show to the world but I come home and crumble; sometimes I can hold it together but most times I can’t. I want to end the suffering, the silent suffering. It would leave so many people confused to know that I ended my life. Everyone thinks I’m a light, a beautiful spirit. I am, but I have my moods. And I begin to hate every version of myself because of who I always turn out to be. A manic depressed misunderstood crazy young lady who just wants to experience true love and then maybe it could all make sense. There is someone who can love every version of me. But I really don’t know if that person exists. Kudos to those that have tried, but once they get to know me they scurry. That’s fine. If they don’t I push them away. I feel safer when I’m alone anyway.
Anyways, I don’t know what I’m saying. Writing makes me feel better than talking to myself.
I want to give up. I’m not proud of me. I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t know why I’m studying and failing. I feel like a failure. A failure if I continue and fail my classes, and a failure if I give up and switch my mind again. A career isn’t meant for someone like me. I can’t choose just one thing to focus on for years. I came in search of stability and thought I found it, but I’m still indecisive and unstable. I hate the life I’ve create here in this city. I hate the life I’ve created in San Diego. I want to start over all over again, but don’t have the money to do so quite yet. My crazy self believes it’s on the way, my new beginning. So I’m trying not give up just yet and push through. But I really don’t think this school thing is for me. I don’t think I want to be a teacher. I try and convince so many people and myself that I do but I don’t believe it anymore. I just want to write. I can’t do this anymore. I have no motivation and don’t even like my classes. Okay that’s all. Not one class I enjoy. I am not passionate about what I am doing. The last time I was when I was cooking and giving facials. I moved to a new city I know nothing about and started a school career to become a teacher. I know nothing about being a grade school teacher I just did it cause my dad said I’d be good at it. I’m trying to convince myself the same thing. I just want to end it all so I don’t have to keep convincing. So I don’t have to keep trying and changing my mind every time my mood changes. What I really want? Is to fall in love and for someone to love me for who I am. Me and all my little personalities. Allows me to change my mind and find new hobbies that make me money. Focus on myself and not work myself to death to try and survive in this lonely city on my own. I came to be alone but hate feeling lonely. I just need someone to love and to love me too. But I don’t know if I’m in the right place for that. I don’t know where that is. The only love I feel comes from God, and that’s enough sometimes. But I want to be held in the physical world, I want a woman who loves me through God’s word. I don’t know. That isn’t for me right now and I feel hopeless, but I have faith. So I can’t end it all. I can’t just yet. I have to keep pushing and trying to find the missing pieces to the puzzle. Then I can meet her. The version of me who is ready to experience that, but I have to keep trying. Keep going. Don’t end it all just yet Cyrah. You promised to give yourself until 36 ok. You have to touch an escalade and you have to open a food truck. You have to start a blog and learn to make candles and open a skating rink. And see the beach again. Find things to love in life. Stop giving yourself to work you don’t know, it’s taking over your heart and your soul and that’s not fair. Something is going to work out to where you can focus on yourself. It’s okay. You’ll be okay.
This isn’t goodbye yet.”

That was a love letter to myself. I know, it’s dark and twisted, I warned you. But that’s the reality of me. Listen, I can be on this blog and post the most uplifting motivating things to share to the world, but go home and curl up and bawl my eyes out when things get too rough. I wouldn’t be my honest self on here if I didn’t share both sides.

So yes, that was dark but that itty bitty piece of light at the end there is what saved me. It saves me every time. So when you’re depressed and feel like ending it all, just write. Write it out let it out and read back what you said. Ask yourself how would little you feel about this and how would future you feel about this. See Cyrah 2.0 wants no parts, Cyrah 2.0 wants to look back at this and cry happy tears because I fought for myself. I didn’t let the depressed ego state of mind tell me what to do and how to do it. I let it motivate me to keep going, because I remember future me needs to know what it’s like to ride in an all black Cadillac Escalade with fuzzy dice hanging and spinners on my 22’s.

So yeah, don’t take advice from anyone you don’t want to be like. If living your truth the way you see through is something you want, well hell, at least be honest. This is me being honest. Yeah, I struggle, but I persevere every time. I only want to take advice from people who have been through the mud and back. Not the ones whose life was handed to them on a silver platter and don’t know what being depressed means. I want to take advice from the ones who struggled, fought, and rose to the top. Whether you are battling your own demons, facing eviction, broken-hearted, or breaking hearts because of your built-up trauma, I wanna hear about it.

How did you fight and win?