Friday, September 18, 2015

Tomorrow

A few may know that I've been depressed and to read something that echoed my thoughts was a relief. It made me feel that I am not alone.

I wanted to repost this poem to remind me of the hope that I've felt when I read this and to remind me that I am not alone in this. And if you have ever felt like this as well, know that are rainbows and silver linings. :)



Promise Me Tomorrow

By Fortesa Latifi

First, I’ll say, “I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry for how many days you’ve spent

not wanting to see the next. I’m sorry for

how much it hurts, and I’m sorry you have

to drag that hurt behind you everywhere you go.

I’m sorry for the times when you don’t even feel

the hurt and what’s left- nothing- is so much scarier.

I’m sorry for how scared you are. I’m sorry for how tired

you are. I’m sorry for all the moments you’ve missed out on

while you stayed in bed convincing yourself to keep breathing.

I’m sorry. I’ve been there. Some days, I’m still there.



Second, I’ll say, “brave,”

which is what you are. There is nothing braver than

living through these days with the curtains drawn tight

around your chest and these nights where every candle you own

couldn’t emit enough light to help you find your way.

There is nothing braver than living through these feelings.

You are a warrior in an unsuspecting body, fighting every day

just to be. And I know-

I know how it feels to be in a fistfight with yourself, with your

memories, with your trauma, with your pain. I know how it feels

to beg your brain to be quiet just for a moment, to search for peace

everywhere, to dig through every pile of dirt, to search between every

page of every book, to play hide-and-seek with peace when it is always

changing the rules. You are so brave to keep looking.



Third, I’ll say “tomorrow,”

which is what I want you to promise me. I know tomorrow isn’t

something you think about a lot, and, if you do, it’s not with rose-colored

glasses. Sometimes tomorrow feels impossible. The night is so long

when you feel like you want to die and the dawn seems miles away.

I know. There are so many nights I’ve curled up in bed with

anxiety, who scoots over to make room for depression,

who always calls dibs on the good pillow and there I am,

knees bumping into the wall, begging them to leave me alone. And again, I’m sorry. I’m

sorry these nights visit you more often

than they don’t. I’m sorry they’re such rude guests,

keeping you awake until morning, leaving you scared to sleep lest they get you into

trouble when you’re not watching.



The promise I need you to make is this: We’ll see each other tomorrow.

Tonight doesn’t always keep its promises, but tomorrow has potential.

Find one good thing and hold it tight between your fingers and wait for tomorrow. I

know it’s hopeful of me to ask, but can I see you tomorrow? Tomorrow

is a place where things can be handled and coffee can be made and

you can have your favorite dinner. Tomorrow is a place where we can

figure out a better way to cope with living and tomorrow is a place where,

one day, we won’t be coping – we’ll be living. Tomorrow is where I’ll

see you. I’ll see you tomorrow. I promise.



Can you promise me tomorrow?



Source: To Write Love On Her Arms