Dear Mommy,

It’s been fifteen years since I last spoke to you. That’s not the fault of either of us. I’m sure you didn’t mean to die. I’m still not sure whether I should envy you or not. Sure, you didn’t get to see how adorable your grandson is but you’re not here to suffer either.

Anyway, that’s not why I’m talking to you. I’m talking to you because there’s no one else to talk to. No, mom, I’m not being dramatic. I’m 99% sure that most of the people around me don’t care enough to help. I know because I already asked for help and they chose not to. The only two people who cares about me, my dearest sister and her baby boy, don’t have the ability to help. I would rather not worry their heads by telling them something they have no ability to change. I know, you can’t help either, you being dead and all, but you’re my mother. Aren’t you supposed to have the cure-all for things like this?

So, onto the problem at hand. I’m depressed. Immensely so. It’s one of those days when I wish that I drank alcohol because maybe it might just numb the pain enough for me to be able to bear it. Yes, it’s that bad. I hate alcoholics. They should all be set on fire while alive. The fact that anyone with the ability to help does not care enough to do so, as I have already said, is the source of the pain. The people who I counted on to help me are looking at me like they didn’t who I am. I feel so abandoned.

I don’t know what to do anymore. I’ve never wanted you to be alive more than how I want you right now. I need you to hold me while I cry and tell me that it’ll all pass and everything will be okay and I’ll believe it because you told me so.

But you’re not here. And I’m in my room, crying for two hours now because no matter how much I tell myself that I’ll get through it, I don’t believe it. I’ve never felt like this since my nephew was born and that scares and depresses me even more because the thought of seeing that boy grow up and being there for him as much as his parents will be has been the only thing that has been able to tether me onto this world and if that’s not working, I don’t know what else will.

I’m scared and sad and alone. No matter what I do, I’m not feeling better.

I need you, mom. Please help me.

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