Earlier this year, I found a letter that my mother wrote to my father back in 2005. I was just looking for my passport in a cupboard and spotted her handwriting through the corner of my eye. It was a small folded piece of paper with my fathers name on it. I couldn't help myself and had a look what it was.
I quickly realized that it was a letter my mother wrote to my father, probably planning to end her own life that day. I had multiple reactions whilst reading it. For one, seeing her handwriting just brings up a feeling that I can't describe. I guess it's just very familiar and something I connect to her. It was also weird to read what she was feeling and doing as I was too young to know any of that. I don't really know that much about who she was through my own eyes thinking about it... And lastly, I just felt really really sad. Reading her words just hurt so much. Not in a judgemental way. I can't tell for sure why I reacted the way I did because my mind just went blank. I am pretty sure though, that I just felt for her. I felt so sorry that she had to feel that way. I just sat there and cried. For her.
A few months later I did tell my father that I had found the letter. I also asked if there are more of them. There are. What I don't know and I guess I haven't decided yet, is if I should insist on reading more of them. My father seems to think that it is not a good idea. I have a feeling that it could help me understand the disease and understand how she felt though. After all, mental diseases are in the mind and hard to understand as an "outsider". And, they are so personal. Every persons experience is unique in some way. Anyway, we'll see.
The following piece is how I processed my emotions just a few days ago after re-reading the letter (I took a photo of it after I found it). I haven't actually written anything in this format in a very long time. I am not actually sure when that would have been. Maybe last year some time? I just found myself picking up a notebook and a pen, sitting on the floor, leaning against my bedroom window and listening to a "sad/dreaming" playlist that I have started putting together.
I found a letter
I found a letter
A while ago actually
She wrote it in 2005
On a day that could have been her last.
I feel so much pain
Pain for her.
Reading her words
Words expressing her pain.
It was too much.
How did she make it another 6 years?
I don't know.
While many of us are avoiding to love
She wished she could
Desperately trying
Whilst I can understand
Understand how she could feel that way
I have no idea how she really felt
What it was like
I am a disgusting, horrible, loveless person.
Her words.
Fundamentally, I am a disgusting, horrible, loveless person.
Fundamentally.
She was good with words
She knew what she was saying to herself
It pains me so much.
No words form in my mind.
Nothing.
I just feel pain.
I feel the tears running down my cheek.
My chest moving up and down.
We'll see how this develops. I am really not sure what I am going to do. If I will read more of her letters. I think I might. I just have to find the right moment. I believe the right time will show itself to me. Just like writing does.
XOXO
Comments