Dear younger self, I know you’re hurting. I know every night is a battle, screams of anger and tears paint the walls in your house with a bitterness and loneliness you can’t seem to scrub off. I know you’re trying.
Dear younger self, I know you don’t miss your sister. I know she abused you. Threw plates at your head and made your life a living hell. I know she tore you in half just as much as she did your family. I know you want to forgive her but you’re furious. You’re hurt. The people who were supposed to love and be there for you broke you. I know. But you must forgive. God forgave you.
Dear younger self, I know there’s a dark cloud growing inside you and it seems to rain every day and you’re soaking wet with sadness and regret. I know it hurts. And I know some days you feel nothing. You walk to school and wonder if you died would it make everything okay. I know it won’t.
Dear younger self, I know you’ve littered your body with scars. You’ve torn it apart for a sense of feeling, a sense of something real. I know you hurt. I know it will be okay. Someday, you will be okay.
Dear younger self, I know you’ve been skipping meals to shed your skin in a different way. To be beautiful. I know you’re already beautiful. You just don’t see it.
Dear younger self, I know you think he loves you. I know he doesn’t. I know he will take care of you one day and the next won’t even look your way. I know you’ll beg. I know you just want an answer. I know you won’t get one after a year of being in love. I know you will break down on the bathroom floor, sobbing uncontrollably, not caring who sees because you lost the one thing that made you feel alive. I know you will be okay. You will be okay.
Dear younger self, I know it’s getting hard to breathe. I know you’re sitting in Trigonometry thinking of how many pills you will swallow tonight to just make everything stop. I know you will fail. I know you will try harder. I know you will still be alive the next morning with a sickness in your stomach and dread in your heart. I know.
Dear younger self, graduation is only a week away. I know you’re scared you won’t make it. I know you still feel empty. I know there’s hope.
Dear younger self, I know you graduated. I’m so proud. But I know you will fall deep into depression. I know you will let it consume you and whisper deceit into your heart. I know you will listen. I know you will write a letter and say goodbye. I know you will try to die again. I know you will swallow all those pills and puke, heaving like the bottom of your entire being is trying to turn inside out. I know your head will spin and your pulse will plummet. I know you will cry and ask forgiveness from God. I know you want to die, but you can't.
Dear younger self, I know the pain in your body from this disease is excruciating. I know nothing helps. I know you will endure. I know you will be okay.
Dear younger self, I know you hate the way you look. But I know you’re beautiful. 
Dear younger self, I know you’re feeling hopeless. Just wait a little longer. You will be rescued.
Dear younger self, I told you so.