February 27, 2019
Dear Darkened Rose,
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, WOMAN!!!!!!!!!
The other morning, as I got in the shower, this fear washed over me—”How possible is it that I will die today?!?” To say the least, my id mind can be such a drama queen.
I think it’s worth mentioning, though, that I can very distinctly remember a time when this question was not fear-inducing, but rather, almost asked in a hopeful tone. If anyone ever dreams of being in a fatal car accident, or of being the first murder victim of the second coming of Ted Bundy—I will say with much certainty that they are under the control of a depressed mind. I am sure that may seem obvious, but when you are being kidnapped and abused by your own mind, depression feels all powerful. So you make excuses for it (the mind you have learned to live with).
To anyone in this situation, I would plead that they seek reputable help; stop drinking alcohol; spend time educating themselves about anything of slight interest; be around people who think positively of them—regardless of whether or not they feel they deserve that time; and to call me whenever needed.
I ended with a note in my last letter that stated that I hoped next time I wrote to you that I would be further along in making the young Oie proud. Which was honestly quite pathetically preemptive of me. I was trying to set up this next line. Wait for it…
I already am making her proud!
The ways by which I wanted to create a legacy used to consist mostly of some extraordinary ideas. I had faith that the hopscotching needed to get there would be easy peasy, as most egocentric adolescents and emerging adults seem to similarly think these days. I am almost grateful that my self-discovery phase wasn’t riddled with a lot more poor attempts at selling myself (or “building a personal brand”) or more withdrawn schooling than I actually had (rest in peace, my miserable cosmetology career attempt). I recognize I never had the capacity to think outside myself as fully as I do today.
I know I am repeating myself, but I heavily rely on this idea that my brain was not fully developed until I was 25 years old. Lately, I have slightly aligned my beliefs with this concept of determinism (versus the existence of pure human free will). The more that I do so, the more I find security in the amalgamation of what created my current self—and this rings similar to how much my younger self would have easily found self-compassion, more confidence and esteem. In my late 20s, my anxiety has shaped into an entirely new monster, but one that I can now work symbiotically with.
Today, I went into a brief bout of grief.
My professor brought up a very poignant topic to your death, and I quickly grew interested, but also a bit saddened. Immediately after class, I texted a new friend and requested to meet her in the hall ASAP. I then called Janie to keep from crying, and she healed up my sunken heart by sending me a reviving video of good ol’ Bowie Frost.
Quickly, my friend Adrienne was on this situation like the solid academic that she is. There was essentially this drive of, “How can you study the phenomenon [that was discussed in my class]? How can this current grief be useful?” I have gotten lucky to become close to people similar to her in my life who have this amazing ability to critically think through things with me to a point where I am motivated and at peace. This is the good stuff that I wish I could have told young Oie about when she started to struggle in life.
I’m grateful and feel “glorious [that I] got a chance to start again.”
I wish you could have experienced the same in your life. You deserved it.
I will always miss you. I will always love you.
Enclosed are cool things.
The Song: Glorious by Macklemore