On Tuesday, I happened to stumble across a journal that I wrote in 2003. I was 15 years old at the time. The journal spanned from August 2003 to November 2003, a month before my grandpa passed away and everything went to hell. Funnily enough, this journal is hosted where only 18+ folks could be and I pitched a fit about the first journal being suspended. [Apparently I was a rule-breaking rebel back then!!]
In other words, Here’s a letter to 15-year-old me who would probably be terrified of 25-year-old me…
Tossed under the cut for triggering material. [cutting, eating disorder talk]
Dear 15-year-old me,
I’m sorry you were really angry with the world when Grandpa died. I’m sorry you had no real way to ‘get out’ and you had to resort to taking a razor blade to your hip. Do you know that the scars are still there? They’re not as noticeable now, but you can feel the rough, jagged skin. I still feel self-conscious about them. They’re a reminder of a very ugly time in my life….your time.
I’m sorry a friend had to turn your life upside down months later when you’re already raw and vulnerable. I’m sorry I’m still not strong enough to Ed. Ed, however, is a lot less prominent. He’s not taking over my life as much as when you had to deal with him. I still have times where I don’t feel like eating because I don’t want to gain weight. I still have times where when I do eat, vomiting sounds absolutely fantastic. Vomiting of course, is just a thought today. I don’t actually vomit anymore. It is kind of unnerving though that I still know how to induce it.
You didn’t think that dating women was ever in your future and you were largely hetero-romantic and asexual. You thought smutty fanfics were gross.
I come with news that I am happily dating a woman. Next year will be two years!! I still fall on the asexual spectrum, but my sexuality has evolved that I actually want to get it on with someone I’d have an emotional attachment to. Primary sexual attraction is non-existent but I thrive on secondary. [Primary sexual attraction is that of thinking you wanna get it on with someone you don’t have any kind of attachment to. In other words you look at someone and want to jump ’em.]
Smutty fanfics make my world go round and its the only kind of fic I’ll read unless I’m having a cry fest and I need something fluffy to pick myself up.
15-year-old me, you thought anything sexual as a whole was disgusting, and did everything in your power to avoid it. If it was at all physically possible for me to meet you, I’d like to be able to tell you that it’s not all that bad. It’s fun. Hilarious even.
I’m sorry that your cousin molested you. At the time you didn’t know what was going on, but once you did and you told someone about it, they casted you aside. I’m still very weary of men I’ll hope you know and I refuse to be left alone with them.
I’m still battling my way through depression, but now anxiety has decided to join the party. It’s not a fun party, at all.
I’m glad I got to know you again, 15-year-old me. Life is still a tough battle but we’re fighting the best we can. We’ll come out on the top, we always do. After all, I wouldn’t be writing this here letter to you if you hadn’t held on. We had people to hold on for. Some of those people might not be in our [my] life now, but there are people that have stuck it out and I’m very happy they did.