An open letter to everyone for whom it hasn’t yet gotten better:

This week I wanted to talk about staying alive. Even when it’s hard, even when we don’t feel like it, even when we just don’t think we can bear it.

If you’re sitting at home alone, this is for you. If you’re scared, this is for you. If things from the past feel too heavy, this is for you. If the sky looks greyer every day, and you worry you’re just imagining it, this is for you. If you’re always saying the wrong thing, or you’re afraid no one likes you, this is for you. If your jaw clicks, back aches, stomach is in bowties from your pain—this is for you.

You are not alone. You are not alone. You are not alone.

I’m telling you: these feelings will pass. Depression is treatable. One day maybe you’ll write a book, or another book. Maybe you’ll go down to the Galapagos and help rescue sea turtles, standing guard on the beaches at night, just you and the other volunteers and the sand and a whole lot of beautiful. You’ll get your own apartment. You’ll learn how to surf, or drum, or be a vet. You’ll graduate. You’ll be who you are. You’ll fall in love with someone who will love you back. You’ll find friends who will come over at any hour when you need them to, friends you’ll want to do the same for, people who will be proud of you, people who will call you by your name, a god who will believe in you.

You’ll feel better.

Since you are reading this online, I’ll assume you have access to the internet and can check out these awesome online resources that exist:

Kate Bornstein’s Hello, Cruel World Lite (PDF)
On Twitter: @unsuicide and #stayalive
And, National Suicide Hotline: 1-800-273-8255.

You are already fabulous. My friend and fellow writer Saeed Jones recently wrote, “I hope to do right by all of your brilliance. We’re here. We’re queer. And we are ferocious.” The modern world is wack, but you? You’re a ninja, a winged thing, the toughest cookie. And I want you to stay alive.

In solidarity,
Oliver