To the Man Who Got Tacos With Me When I Was Feeling Low


Dear Happy,

Last night, I was at a low. I’d had a pretty decent day, but towards the end I just couldn’t do anything anymore. I ended up laying on my sofa for two hours. Heating up and then eating a frozen pizza was a challenge in and of itself. I was getting miserable.

I felt the loneliness setting in, and it made me angry that I was alone. I live alone while struggling with finding the right medication for my bipolar ll disorder. For me, it’s the scariest time to be alone: when you can’t even trust yourself because you don’t know if it’s your thoughts or the medication.

However, you wanted me to be happy. And you saw I was struggling. I had told you all I wanted was some tacos, because they make me happy when I am sad. You offered to get some with me. You worked from 6 a.m. until somewhere around 6 p.m. Yet you still wanted to get tacos with me.

We sat there, and I laughed as you were amazed by the restaurant’s decorations. We listened in on a conversation behind you, about how random it was. Then, the conversation took a turn. And so did my night.

She started talking about how she attempted suicide at age 12. Then, she said it: “I have bipolar.” In my mind, I screamed.

Last night was supposed to take me out of my mind, get me thinking of anything — just anything other than my mental health issues. But it was there; it had followed me. Maybe it should have made me feel less alone in the struggle, but I just wanted out of that restaurant. I instantly lost my appetite and wanted to run away and hide. You kept me smiling.

You agreed to get coffee with me afterwards, something to cheer me up again. We sat and talked. Not once did either of us mention my depression or anxiety. Bipolar didn’t come up in conversation. I felt normal with you; I didn’t have issues. We laughed and we talked and we enjoyed each other’s company.

If it weren’t for you, I would have gone to bed at 5:30 p.m. I would have wanted to cry myself to sleep, but been unable to show emotion. I would have tossed and turned all night. I would have thought about self-harm, thought about how I would choose to leave this world should I ever hit that point.

Instead, I went to bed and cuddled up with your jacket I “borrowed” from you. I thought of you every time I opened my eyes. We texted for hours after our date. You let me know it’s possible you’ve caught feelings for me. I let you know that I had, too. I smiled. My heart beat. I was alive and feeling. I went to sleep for the first time in I don’t know how long with a genuine smile on my face. All because you made me a priority.

Thank you. Thank you for caring. Thank you for making me laugh. Thank you for saving me from the hell that is nothingness. While I know I’ve got more days like that ahead which I may have to face alone, I know I’ve got someone by my side through it all. I couldn’t ask for anything more.

Love,

The Girl Still Wearing Your Jacket

Image via Thinkstock.

If you or someone you know needs help, visit our suicide prevention resources page.

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