Dear me,

I don’t know what to do anymore. I have no purpose, no reason for living. I’m 17, almost 18, and I’m even more lost than I was when I was in grade 6, even more lost than when I was assaulted. Even more lost than I was the second time I was assaulted… Even more lost than when I ran away for the tenth time, even more hopeless than I was when I woke up from taking 67 pills of ibuprofen.

Why am I here?? I have no reason! I’m seen as selfish, and spoiled, and when I was growing up the only way my mom knew to try to keep me “under control” was by spoiling me. I got an iPod. I got dance lessons, but this all happened after I was torn into pieces, after my sense of dignity and strength was ripped from me! So yeah I cut myself. Yeah, I spread lies because I didn’t understand what I was saying! I didn’t want attention! I wanted someone to reach out and tell me I wasn’t alone! I wanted someone to help me, to tell me it’s OK, that none of what happened was my fault!

So I started dating, trying to find any place to belong. That’s not how it started, of course. At first, I just wanted others to feel my pain, so that they understood what I was going through. I fell in love with falling in love and once that feeling was gone, so was I.

Then in grade 10, I almost had sex with someone just to feel. I knew it was wrong so I stopped myself, though withy my next boyfriend I couldn’t. I got drunk for the first time. I lost control, and I lost myself even more. So I kept it up. I kept having sex. I became two different people, one was the “normal TJ” I had become. The other me was the one behind the door, the one that could keep going, the inner redhead, I call her.

She’d only come out when the door was closed. When I felt empty, she came out. And with my two boyfriends (the one I lost it to and the one after him), I felt empty a lot. So she came out, a lot.

I had a miscarriage in February and I didn’t tell anyone until now. It still hurts though… Talking to people about it doesn’t help and I’ve been a subject of judgement my entire life…

Here I am now… I might be pregnant, I’m in China, I don’t have a decent job. I’m struggling to finish high school. I’m hoping to go to university, but in reality, if I’m not pregnant, if I don’t have a reason to live. What’s the point?

They can see me as selfish all they want, but I’m lost, hopeless, and I feel alone…

Dear future me,

Tell me, did it get easier? Did I have my baby? Was I even pregnant? Or did I finally break after having one straw too many?

Did I give up?

Dear me,

I hope I had my baby… I hope I made a better future for myself and for my baby… I hope my baby makes me a better person.

Talk to you later me,

Show me a picture from the future, show it to me in my dreams.