Our Little Library of Letters

Written to problems, not people – by everyday champions, like you.
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Dear Perfectionism

Shattered glass representative of the shattered bones this teen author writes about
I spin, twirl, shake, leap. You're still there as I watch others. You're in my mind as I create. You're telling me I'm bad - I'm going to fall. I try to ignore you. I try, I try, I try but, I can't multitask! As I forget what's going on, you come back stronger. "You're going to fall, you're going to fall," you say...

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Blinds symbolic of what it feels like to be labeled by a diagnostician.
I never got to thank the person who introduced us. It's someone on twitter, and I've been too shy to tell them. Also because it happened years ago, and if I tell them now it'll look like I've had this gratitude for them kept hidden for so long - it's almost stalkerish and... WAIT. This is not central to what I wanted to tell you. I think... 

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A man suffering from C-PTSD and suicidal ideation
To be fair, doctors fail to have a consensus if the symptoms I experience are the PTSD, the saucier version C-PTSD, MDD, or any of the others listed in my medical chart.  You hide in the darkness of all those letters and let your symptoms do the work.  You use the self-inflicted injuries to muddy the waters for my care and create distance between myself and everyone else... 

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