I’m sorry there are times when it feels like it won’t stop raining no matter what, and there are times when you’re so desperate you would do anything but have no idea what that anything could ever be, and I’m sorry you and I share this bond. This thing that feels like it’s a living breathing thing, but is just a lie, a pack of lies, that fills your head and seeps downwards until every inch of you feels contaminated and terrible and worthless. I’m sorry. Words can not express how sorry I am. I know you know that because I know you feel the same way, too.
But I want to tell you to hold on.
Because as much as I hate the night, as much as the darkness weighs on me and you, as much as I rail against the quiet and the still and the loneliness, this remains fact:
The sun does rise.
The sun does rise tomorrow, and the world sings with alarm clocks, and morning news and cities burst to life, and I am still here. Even when I haven’t wanted to be, I have managed to still be here, and that is no small feat. If that is you, if you feel like all you’ve managed today is to still be here through a night when you wanted otherwise, please know there is no small victory in that. That is a large, loud, celebration-style victory.
You are alive, and you are breathing, and you are a miracle for the heart that beats in your chest.
So please stay. Please hold on. When it feels dark and quiet and lonely and you’re trying to figure out how to feel comfortable in your skin but just can’t seem to get there, please stay anyway.
The Wandering-Mind 