A Letter to Kid Me

Dear Kid Me,

You’ve gone through quite a lot. You were once free to be as a child should be; so innocent. Problems started to form—it was clear you were struggling in this world.

Then we grew up to this man I am today, but still you remained as my inner child. I’ve never really acknowledged your existence. Adult though I may now be, you still reside somewhere within.

I’ve spent years trying to run from you, but one cannot simply flee from one’s own self. I’ve lived as though I’ve no innocence; that was swiftly taken from us. Now I’m just bitter; angry with us and others.

You don’t understand why you struggle so much, and that’s okay—you’re still very young. Nobody should be expected to understand such things at your age. You are developing obsessive-compulsive disorder and severe anxiety issues; you are not a damned soul, you simply have mental health problems.

Our mother made many mistakes; said things she shouldn’t have. Our minds became polluted with fear; always expecting the worst of ourselves and scrutinizing every action or inaction as per how we expect she would think. Our mother is also unwell and clearly struggles with her own issues; hers need not be ours.

You develop a lot of hate for yourself. Deep resentment and hatred will serve only to hurt people and push them away. That same self-loathing will haunt and damage you and your future.

Enough with the diaries and momentos of times long gone. You torment yourself for years by dwelling so much on the past and never really moving on. You’ll merely develop an obsession with things that were; forever struggling to adjust to what is.

Our dad will make mistakes, just like you. He doesn’t yet understand what you’re going through, but he is trying. There will be a day when you’ll both sit down and have open conversations about these things.

You’ve no doubt heard this before, but kid, you’re not perfect; nobody is. It is often said because it’s true. Perfection is a matter of perspective; subjective. What is perfect to you, might disgust another. It’s time you stopped chasing that illusion, for us both.

Adult You

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A Letter to My Anxiety

Dear Anxiety,

I hope you don’t think me ungrateful, but sometimes I feel as though I’m losing faith. We’ve been together for as long as I can remember, yet I seem to have very little to show for it.

I would ask for some time apart so I could recover, but that’s why people sleep. No doubt I’m just being a terrible person, as usual. Obviously you know best.

I have also sent OCD a letter; he is such a kind friend. We may have our problems, but I realise you too are just looking out for me. I do try to listen to you both. It’s just that sometimes you get so aggressive that it upsets me, you silly goose.

You were with me a lot today; I hope I didn’t take up too much of your precious time. Much like OCD, you are often busy; I would hate to be a burden.

I don’t go out as much lately—you consistently remind me of the potential dangers. I ought to take time to consider each and every opportunity for something to go awry. Sometimes I just forget, thinking maybe it’s okay, but of course it’s not.

You make my heart pound something fierce. I’m not sure what I would do if you weren’t there to protect and lead me. I recently got too close to someone very special, but you made sure I kept my guard up as often as possible, as always.

I won’t keep you any longer. I hope you’ll come visit later tonight whilst I begin to sleep. I suspect it’s not important that I drift off right away. There are still a great many things I need to consider.

I’m lucky to have you in my life.


Thank you Mental Health and Invisible Illness Resources for sharing this.

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A Letter to My OCD

Dear OCD,

Many apologies for the long overdue letter, for I have been rather busy striving to pick up the pieces of my life that you sought to repeatedly smash. I hope I haven’t caused any inconvenience.

I’ve taken up cooking as somewhat of a new hobby. I’m very grateful for the skills I’m learning, since I’ve had plenty of free time as a result of the depression caused by your insufferable harassment—you always know best.

I fell in love again, unfortunately. What a woman she is. You were right to incessantly berate me, however. I successfully fought to fray what we had, though. I do sometimes forget that being happy is wrong, but fear not, your teachings once more saw me unravel it all. Thank you, my dear friend.

I wanted to go out to the shops today, but you rightly steered me onto the path of solidarity. I mistakenly thought I perhaps looked reasonable, but you had me obsess over the size of my pair of jeans—I’m very grateful for your wisdom.

These have been trying times. I owe all my trials and tribulations to you, comrade. You’ve shown me that I cannot trust people; everyone really is out to get me. I am unworthy and entirely useless. I will endeavor to convince myself there is absolutely no hope, with your sound guidance of course.

I hope you are not too swamped planning the many hurdles with which I’ve yet to struggle. I do so marvel at how you manage it all, and with such fervour—you really are very talented.

All my best.


Thank you Mental Health and Invisible Illness Resources for sharing this.

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Honesty is NOT the Best Policy

I used to think being honest was the way to go.

Don’t even bother. Lie, just lie until you’re blue in the face. Nobody wants to hear the truth. We have so many triggers; so many ways by which things get to us. It’s not worth it.

I don’t care if it’s your friends, family, lover, pet, or mug of hot chocolate; you tell that chocolate goodness what it wants to hear and nothing else. I assure you, the risk of hurting someone you love isn’t worth being straight with them.

Do you have OCD and as a result find yourself oversharing? I do.

For years I’ve been hearing and reading how people want others to always be honest with them. Women often go around putting down guys who lie or withdraw the facts, but when we do as they ask? Game over.

That thing you feel you should tell them because they want honesty?

Keep it to yourself.

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Where Do Men Stand?

At risk of losing a number of my lovely female readers…

I feel too much is expected of us. I’m sick of hearing how all these ladies always get the short end of the stick. It certainly used to be the case, but in this day and age, it often swings the other way.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m fully aware that I’ll be pushing the generalisations quite hard. I’m sorry if this annoys those who go against the grain like myself. I know not all men and women are like how I’ve described.

There are women who are apparently paid less, denied jobs, and given special treatment because of their gender; this irks me all the same, and I’m sorry for those who’ve been treated like that.

However, two wrongs don’t make a right. Just because some women aren’t treated fairly, doesn’t mean other men should in return be treated unfairly. I didn’t reduce your wages. I didn’t deny you that working position because you’re a woman. I wasn’t your abusive ex-husband. We’re not all like that, just as not all women are man-haters.

A man is obliged to pay for the date, or society says he’s cheap; a dick. A man must pay through his teeth for a ring, offering it to the woman in hopes that she’ll say yes to a life of fear of divorce love and security, after which yet another, far more expensive ring is required.

I know an amazing woman who genuinely gets annoyed by the whole diamond thing. “Blood diamonds!” She’ll say. If she were to marry, she’d want a gem, something that isn’t absurdly expensive; something that costs more in actual meaning than cash. Her ideal scenario? A gem she and her husband-to-be  found and mined themselves, together.

Her ideal wedding? Somewhere nice in the countryside, perhaps a forest, and near a stream; nothing OTT, but something natural, joined with only those closest to them.

What a woman.

So, you’re both on your date, both trying to see whether you two are compatible. Why is the guy expected to foot the entire bill? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not suggesting she pays for him—that would be weird—but by that same damn merit, it would be equally weird for him to pay for hers.

I consider it highly rude to expect someone to pay your way, least of all because of your gender. Rude and disrespectful. It also indicates that you expect the guy to make all the effort, while you just sit there and take, take, take.

The moment someone goes around expecting you to pay for them because society says so, I believe you should leave them the fuck alone because they don’t care about you nearly as much as they do your wallet or purse.

A happy wife is a happy life!

It seems to me that if the woman doesn’t get what she wants, it’s often game over, or at least a really rough ride, and not the fun kind that ends with cleanup and an awkward silence. Why does the woman automagically dictate when things are sufficient? Men have a voice too.

Man: “Darling, can we get a dog?”
Woman: “I don’t want a dog, so let’s compromise…”
Man: “We’re not getting a dog are we?”

I’m not saying women should do whatever the man wants, or that what she wants isn’t important, I’m saying that what both parties want is important. If we just did business like this, we’d be a right mess.

I get that you probably can’t always compromise. I understand things aren’t always so black and white, unless you’re a zebra of course. It’s just that, in my admittedly cynical way, most of what I see is inequality between the genders.

In my jumbled way, I feel frustrated, because I feel like my voice doesn’t matter. I blame the men who did exactly the same thing, and far worse, to women all those years ago—so what is this, revenge?

It’s outrageous that so many women out there preach feminism, while simultaneously beating men down. Equality? My arse. Women like that only seem to care about things being equal, when it suits them.

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