I don’t know who I am anymore. I don’t recognise myself when I look in the mirror. I see a strange women with empty eyes staring back at me. I don’t remember how I came to this point nor do I know how I will leave this darkness surrounding me. I just know I am at a dead-end with no escape. I am terrified that I will be stuck here, getting more lost in the darkness as I try to escape.
Therefore, I am writing this letter in the hope that I make it out. Although I don’t feel the things I used to I am clinging to the last strands of hope. As I am afraid that without the small light of hope, I will succumb completely to the darkness of my mind. Losing myself in the abyss and acting on things I previously could not fathom.
I have not spoken a word about the thoughts reoccurring inside my mind. In case speaking them out loud will make them into a reality. Yet as the days go by, I can hear the voices getting louder until I can’t hear my own voice among the noise. I hope with this letter, I can somehow lessen the sound of the voices before my voice becomes silent. The fear surrounds me like a bad smell because I am not ready to completely lose myself. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
So I send you this letter, in faith that the darkness will be a lost memory once the content is revealed. Because the alternative of becoming a lost memory to the darkness is much worse.
In the hope and faith of,