After I split up with an abusive partner in 2017, I got my life together, found a job and emigrated to Canada, met someone and we are happily married, I started work for both the Canadian and British government and until Covid hit was very happy, had a full life, but when Covid happened, both my sister and I got it.
We were told to stay at home and isolate, we were both key workers but they had already had an outbreak at our workplace, but when Justin Trudeau got it also, life was difficult. we always thought we could carry on working especially with restrictions in place but that wasn't to be.
My sister was part of my bubble and so I stayed with her for quite some time.
When we fell ill, I missed my husband a lot and my son's and grand children also, and I couldn't get to see them.
My sister being so much older, got it first and she couldn't lie in bed, because every time she tried, she was coughing up blood, previously we had been told to stay at home and isolate and quarantine for 14 days but when I saw how ill she really was, I panicked and called our private healthcare, tried to explain to them, they said the same as government.
This was in the early days of the virus and I know it was in both countries before the end of 2019.
My sister died February 2nd 2020, the day she was born and I still can't believe she has gone due to the very people who wouldn't help, the people we worked for.
I miss my friend who died with Covid in May. She was such a special person to me. She lived a 100 miles from my home. But we saw each other several times a year. Listening to her on the phone from her home in her final days was difficult. I wanted to hold her hand, I wanted to give her some company and some comfort. I tried my very best to be cheery and kind and understanding. She had supported my family - therefore - in the end, not to be able to reciprocate was awful. But that was not to be, life has been thrown into all sorts of disarray. No final goodbye, no funeral, no celebration of her life. Just another statistic. I feel sad about that. But I am glad she was part of our lives for a long time and that we had shared something good over the years.
I am feeling tired. I started fighting covid in March 2020. I won, but it cost me my hands and feet. I am grateful to be alive but getting tired of fighting for what i need to enjoy my new life. good upper body prosthetics are expensive.I am grateful for all who are supporting me. I am enjoying my new life. I would like to be able to sleep.
recently, I have been struggling with the death of an ex boyfriend. I ended up in hospital after attempting suicide. I feel that writing a letter may help me to release my feeling without anybody knowing who I am. I am getting help but I don’t feel that it is working and my mum is adding extra stress onto me.
So many words I wish I could tell you , im too afraid though so I go on websites like these hoping that you will see, and then maybe you will message me and I can finally let it all out to you about how I feel. I’m not really the type of girl who sticks to one person, but then I met you. You filled the missing spot in my heart, and when you left you took it , now no one else can fill it back , only you can. You are so perfect to me in every way, I love your smile, your laugh, your eyes, the way you smell and every other thing . You are so good at playing the piano and singing. You taught me how to hug , you taught me how to be happy , and how to feel alive. I know you aren’t in love with me and never will be because you even told me that but God I wish I could be the one you wanted. I would do anything for you. I wonder if you ever dream about me or miss me . -h
This is how I feel, day in , day out. for those of you don't believe try what we do.
It's winter and the days are as dark and lonely as the nights. Lockdown has left us all isolated and afraid of what's to come. The vaccine brings hope but the daily death tolls bring grief and terror.
I do believe this should be the final wave, I hope so. Unfortunatley, no future success in supressing the virus can prevent this month's coming deaths. I hope you all stay well and in the best spirits you can.
Make plans for the future and look forward to when it is all over.
I stumbled along for far too many years, day-by-day feeling a little more diminished, a little more frightened, living the lie unable to acknowledge my deteriorating mental health and face the truth, all the time outwardly projecting normalcy and holding on to the facade, fighting the constant self-examination and questioning.
Why should I, with all I have feel this way?
Why do I only see negative outcomes?
Why do I harbour these deep depressive thoughts?
Why am I living with this chronic perpetual unhappiness?
But it seemed to me that the lie was the only path to the truth and it must be acted out, the lie one tells to oneself, the lie that feeds from the crowd's applause, the lie reflected in the mirror when the actors mask is removed, the lie in the shadows cast at the stage exit, when the audience is gone when you’re all alone the lie is always with you, nourishing on the negativity of restlessness, uncertainty, and self-doubt.
The habits formed by the lie inevitably play-out with a dystopian script of call and response, learned verbatim, “how are you today?” they ask, “fine” the hollow reply comes, and so it continues the subterfuge acted out in front of an audience of strangers, invited guests, family, friends, colleagues.
“Life goes on,” they say, “Snap out of it”, “Man-up” what can you do but act the part, so I did, whilst secretly collecting the soundbites to stash away, diligently placing them side-by-side. behind glass, they sit with the negative thoughts, self-doubt, dread, anxiety, and panic attacks all are on display at the secret museum in my mind, curated in the exhibition “Out of sight, out of mind”
This confidante is life in the lie, day-by-day, week-by-week, month-by-month, year-by-year, this is the story of a high-functioning depressive, living with the ever-present danger, the nightmare, that is the threat of being found out, of having to face life outside of the lie, or as you may call it, truth.
Then, one day, you find the museum in your mind is full and with an innate inevitably the weight grows too great, the shelves creak at first, then give way to the overwhelming burden and your world crashes down around you revealing the lie within, without impunity, it scorches your soul and burns those around you, and the burn leaves a mark when the lies nemesis arrives when you have to face up to it you truly understand how truth can hurt too, but it’s too late and the collateral damage is out of your control.
And so the scene is set for Act II, the curtain raised and the spotlight picks out the stage-fright visible on the protagonist's furrowed brow. The story must play out now, but there’s hope, a faint hope which, for now, holds back the lie and keeps the darkness away.
Time, understanding, acceptance, and empathy the route back is like a personal yellow brick road - the path has many turns, crossroads, and choices and you must accept the path is harder to walk alone.
During the covid-19 pandemic , i feel rather hopeless n restless at home . It’s been onie 3 weeks since our country started the lockdown and im already going crazy
Thank you for visiting my website. I created 'Letters to the World" as I felt during times like these it is essential people don't feel alone, even if living alone. I hope you feel comfortable to share your letter. Thank you for visiting my site.