Letter to friend? Critiques? (Very long)

[Anonymous]

Critiques on it anyone? I sent it to my counselor, and we are going to discuss it at our next meeting, but does anyone have any critiques on my letter. I think I do want to send it, but we'll see if my counselor approves. Sorry it's really long, so I won't be offended if you don't read it all.
I changed the names to not people's real names.
P.S. I am a 19 yr old female if that matters.

Cary, I know that I am standing right in front of you. And it is a little odd of me that I can’t say this to you out loud. But this is even harder than coming out to you was. It really is. Sadly.
I guess it all kind of started in Jr. Year. Things do go further back, but I have to find somewhere to start. Do you remember the fight me and Cecile had? Remember how we all got together for an intervention so we could talk? I’m not gonna lie, that intervention was pretty darn traumatizing. And I hate that it was traumatizing to me, I feel like it shouldn’t have been. But truth is. It was.
I went to your house expecting that Cecile would also be arriving, or had arrived recently. Regrettably, Cecile was already there, and had been there for hours. Everyone had been chatting. Everyone had heard what she had to say. And not really even taken the time to see if what I had to say had any warrant. I guess it’s not that no one wanted to listen to my side that bothered me. It was that everyone was blatantly supporting her, while I was just left to stress about the situation alone and cry my eyes out about it at home.
This whole situation was also aggravated by the fact that I was already starting to realize that I was not completely as straight as I always thought I was. So my world was already haywire with thoughts of self hate and fear that others, even my closest friends, would hate me too. So we had our intervention. And it wasn’t as much of a discussion as it was me telling Cecile how she had made me feel really upset and then Cecile reading off her list of all the things I had done wrong in my life. The majority of which didn’t even apply to the situation. Actually thinking back, I think none of them did. My self-esteem already being lowered by my own self-hatred about being gay was only lowered further by her numerous accusations. And then if that wasn’t enough to make me break, everyone then decided it was a time to tell Kaylee ‘everything she has ever done wrong in her friendships with us.’ I think you were the only person that actually didn’t have anything to say. Anyways, basically this made me feel like an absolutely terrible person, I wanted to be able to fix everything that I had ever done wrong. I felt so terrible. I hated myself even more.
But I’m not going back and saying that this never should have happened. Sure it did traumatize me, I still sometimes think about it and get all sad, but how were you to know that I was already going through internal turmoil? I’m just telling you this, to explain the beginning. The beginning of when I started to self-harm.
I remember very clearly the first time I ever self-harmed. It was actually during the free ninth period I had with you. You were not there at the time. I remember I had written down all the things that you guys had said I should fix (at the intervention), on a sticky note. I pulled it out from in my iPod case, where it had stayed, so I could read it. Every. Day. To fix all the wrongs I had committed. I recall taking a mechanical pencil and breaking the tip. So it was sharp. Then I wrote everything that was on the sticky, on my arm. It wasn’t anything really. Just a surface scrape. It didn’t even bleed. Just turned red for a while, and then eventually faded.
In the months following that I self-injured a few minor times, but it was never anything major. Elaina once saw one cut and questioned me, but it was one, so easily explained away. I could see her concern though, so I decided to not do it in such visible places.
I remember clearly in class whenever we would watch movies, I would do the mechanical pencil thing and run it back and forth in one place until it had left a small abrasion. These were all kept hidden conveniently by clothing of course. Only once did my mom see them, but they were easily explained away, because they were pretty small.
But then I slowly started turning to other means of self injury, each one more damaging then the last. (I’m going to spare you the details, unless for some reason you really want to know.)
When things were still not so bad, Kristin actually saw my scars. She joked about them, but thought they were caused by some other means.
I’m not exactly sure when things got really bad. But I know by the end of senior year, I wasn’t ever showing the body part that was the victim of my self-injury.
Starting college I hoped, deeply, that I could stop self-injuring when I got there. I was going to turn over a new leaf. Not be depressed, not be full of self-loathing. I would start fresh. Boy was I wrong. Things spiraled out of control in college; I no longer had any friends to keep me grounded. I had absolutely no college friends, was bullied in college, and my high school friends, I feared, were moving on.
(Take a breather – look at me, am I hyperventilating yet? Now if you looked up I am probably smiling because I know the part that you are reading)
Second semester, I did manage to stop self-harming, temporarily, when I met Rachael. Somehow making a new friend gave me the motivation I needed to stop. And it just made me feel not as lonely as I usually felt at that point in my life. I was also seeing the college counselor at that point. Which did help too.
But then, knowing my life, everything turned sour again. Rachael, my only friend, was transferring. That’s when things got even more severe. The self-harm got worse, harder to hide too. But I couldn’t talk to anyone about it, not you (you might tell my parents), not Rachael (she would blame herself), I did talk to my counselor a bit about it, but he was admittedly not that experienced with the situation I was in. And it’s not the same as having a friend support you.
So I was forced to face my downward spiral alone.
Coming back from college I was terribly depressed. I didn’t have clubs and classes and homework to distract me from everything. So things were worse. I kept trying to talk to you and Kristin about Rachael transferring and how upset I was about it. But you guys kept dismissing it. I knew you just didn’t know what to say to me, so I understood, but it still hurt.
After some terribly low days, and some encouragement from some good samaritans I eventually mustered up the courage to call (A youth program in my town). I made myself an appointment with a really nice social worker, Tori. That’s where I disappear to for an hour on certain days of the week. Tori is actually really good.
There were multiple times when I almost told you everything. I thought about it at one point, at its earlier stages, but Cecile was hurting, and people were worried about Anne too. I didn’t want to be just yet another thing for people to have on their minds. Also another time I almost told you, but was scared off when you had dissed someone who had self-injured by saying, “Well that person just went crazy and started cutting herself.”
I also got close to telling you when I was explaining to you how I was doing. Remember that long letter I sent you by email? When I was explaining why I was depressed? It used to be longer. I edited out some parts.
Truthfully, what the letter said in it was far from the only thing making me depressed. Sure, finding out about my gayness may have contributed a fair amount to everything. But I later learned that it was not the core of what was making me depressed.
What is at the core of it all? All this sadness? Loneliness? Self-loathing? Insecurities? Fear? Resentment? Well I don’t even know that. I am trying to figure that out. Sometimes I don’t know if it’s a bunch of things compiled together that made me feel this way, or if I just keep trying to find excuses for the way I feel. I sometimes I feel like I’m always trying to figure myself out. Figure out why I feel the way I do. It is so extremely frustrating. And it’s one of the reasons I have remained silent for so long. Because if I was to tell you every time I am feeling low, you would ask why I feel that way, and a lot of the time I really don’t know. And it feels stupid that I don’t always know why I feel the way I do. So that’s yet another reason I had to stay mum about everything.
I guess that’s one of the reasons I self-harm. To help protect myself from feelings I don’t understand. I can try and explain more extensively why I do it, but it’s sometimes hard to explain to even myself. So I don’t expect you to completely understand. I just hope that you will accept me even if you don’t understand.
My counselor suggested I might need meds to regulate my emotions. This may suggest clinical depression, even though she didn’t say those exact words. I always thought clinical depression was when you couldn’t get out of bed, couldn’t function at all. Although I did have a week or so like that at the beginning of the summer, it wasn’t a long term thing. But according to people I’ve spoken to on the internet, it’s a spectrum. So who knows what’s wrong with me.
Is this letter telling you everything? No. But it’s telling you a great deal. And it’s telling you all that I’m ready to tell you right now.
Can I ask you a couple favors though? Please be gentle with me, when responding to this. The last thing I need is you telling me I’m stupid or telling me what I should do. I already think I’m stupid and don’t need someone confirming these beliefs. Not that I think you would tell me I’m stupid, I’m just feeling delicate right now, and I absolutely hate being delicate. Also please don’t tell anyone any of this. Allow me to tell my parents myself, on my own time. Also I am seeing a counselor right now, so I have my sails facing the right way, but just need some wind to push me in the right direction.
Now before you look up, breathe. Just breathe. I am sorry. This is probably overwhelming to you. It is for me too. I’m sorry if this has made you cry. But even though I want you to be gentle with me I want to know your concerns and your questions. Don’t be afraid to ask me questions; don’t be afraid of offending me or anything. And if I don’t want to answer a question of yours then I just won’t. But don’t be afraid to ask anyways. Also don’t feel bad if you just want to sit and absorb the information before saying anything at all.
I love you Cary, and I always will. That’s why I’m telling you this. I thought you would want to know.
But geeze do I feel guilty about telling you!

[Anonymous]

All I hope is that you finally reach a stage in your life where you are truely happy with yourself and whatever relationships you form.

I know what it is like to fiercely grapple with feelings of self worth, and tbh listening to jhonny cash makes me realise how finite such things are with a song like 25 minutes to go!

[Anonymous]

Cary, I know that I am standing right in front of you. And it is a little odd of me that I can’t say this to you out loud. But this is even harder than coming out to you was. It really is. Sadly.

To be honest, nobody is going to read the whole thing with you standing there. I'd suggest that you

1. Talk to them in person
2. Give them the letter non-directly (i.e. leave it somewhere for them to find)
3. Cut down the letter BY A LOT

[Anonymous]

OP here. Hmm yeah I could see that. I want to be able to talk to her soon after giving her the letter, and I would like to see her initial reaction. But I could see that being a problem. Also I am not very good at getting words out while talking. So I thought a letter would be good. Do you think it would be reasonable if I gave her the letter then went somewhere like for a miniature walk. We could go to a shelter and I could walk one of the dogs while she is reading it or something.

Do you think that would work?

I dunno I guess I had a lot I wanted to say.

[Anonymous]

OP again, and the reason I want to see her initial reaction is because then I will kind of know what she is really thinking rather than what she wants me to think she is thinking. Same goes with when I came out to people.