Dear I Want to Walk,

Dear Humans,

I feel invisible. 

Perhaps it’s my own fault, or maybe the way I was raised.  Despite that, I want to be seen and I want to ask for help. I think the thought alone “asking for help” can be enough to cause tidal waves of anxiety crashing down the mind inside of me. Even so, I thought I would write this to you. A way to vent my frustrations, even if the poetic nature of it all goes amiss. While you or others see my problems as trivial, there are many things I silently struggle with.

To name a few, I’ve been physically sick. Sick beyond belief—as it impacts my daily routines. The doctors don’t know what’s wrong with me, and quite frankly, I don’t either. To be able to feel the strength that powers my legs, To be able to walk on my own accord, desperately wishing that survival was no more. I want to be able to live the journey that is life, and not fight with my internal strife. That I won’t need to push myself to simply exist.

Not to mention the multitude of mental health conditions I have stored away in my head, often times unable to leave my bed… or what was. I unfortunately lost housing a few days ago, and this isn’t my first rodeo. This is the third time I’ve been homeless. I want to succeed, truly I do… But how can I grow in a world that puts fire to my leaves, tearing off each petal I own. Yearning for the day I can express my colors, shown.

I wonder what life would be like, if the mere thought of existing didn’t strike me with unbearable fatigue. That maybe…just maybe.. This world was meant for me.

Thank you for reading.

Cordially,
I Want to Walk

9.17

Hi I Want to Walk,
And hello to a beautifully seen human.

I apologize for the delay in my response, life has been busy as I too have been feeling invisible, mostly to myself. As I am nearly a year without having a drink of alcohol, my loneliness and time with self have been hard to decide which is happening. So, it’s an excuse that I haven’t written you back yet, but it’s the truth. I have been running around trying to make sense of what I am doing, and failing to laugh and remember, no one knows what we are doing. We are just fucking doing our best. I wanted to make sure I took the time to read, hear, and listen to you.

First, you are seen. I don’t know you but I see you. And life is a series of attempts of trying to be poetic, and it’s always the times when you just say it as it comes that feels the most authentic, and the most alive. And let’s start there, you are alive. You are writing to me. You are taking a leap of faith, as I am taking a leap of faith launching “Dear Humans.” It’s a strange thing asking for help, because society tells us it’s a sign of weakness going back to my first point – all of us, most of the time, don’t know shit. We need help, and it’s perfectly ok. It’s the surrender to win concept. The acceptance piece that it’s ok we need help, and hopefully more people ask for help and follow your lead. When I gave up drinking finally, it was after years of failing to ask for help. I am proud of you, for writing to me. For surrendering, because I know from experience it’s always the first step that is the hardest.

I am sorry you are sick. Truly I am. Physical sickness sucks. I am not a doctor nor close to it, but my advice is to be open to medical feedback. Go see a doctor. See another doctor. It can’t hurt, and while you do that, be kind to your body. Any unhealthy habits will surely not help the condition. This is easier said than done, oh do I know, and as I eat jelly beans as I type this response. There is certainly a healthier snack and I am paying the price for this decision as I am getting major dental work done to replace rotten teeth from poor physical health decisions. I also suggest not being tied to knowing what is physically wrong with you. Sure it would be nice to know why you can’t walk and get power to your legs, but you can’t. I would ask doctors not “why” but “what can I do today?” “What can we do to make it better now?”

The same can be said for your mental health burdens. This I can write to you from my own direct experience. I’m fucked up, and I say that with jest but also yes, seriously, I am messed up. And you know what, it’s ok. It’s ok that you question existence, the important thing is that you don’t act on that thought. The most important thing is that you question your existence a little less tomorrow, and enjoy life a little more today. It’s all progress. Your mental health is not going to ever go away, and certainly not overnight. Don’t shoot the messenger as they say, but that’s the reality. You can, though, make tomorrow, and right now, better. Listen to a song you like. Think about a rainbow or a funny movie scene. There are ways to stop the looping thinking that occurs in all of us. My favorite, I write it down. Or I do yoga. I know you have trouble with your legs, but one of my favorite stretches is the movement of the wrists, we carry so much tension there. Do that. The key for me is just to take one small action in the opposite, or any other fucking direction. You build up a defense against those negative thoughts because you have a bank of ammunition to tell your mind, “hey, I am not a piece of shit, look at what I did today.”

I am also truly, truly, sorry you are homeless, again. And thank you, for giving me and reminding me to have gratitude for the fact I have a roof over my head as I type my response to you. I know there are resources out there for the unhoused, and some of them are actually good and not all fluff. I would seek out those resources, not with expectations but with hope. And with the intention that you are doing any sign to the universe that you are willing to try, and that will help set the current in the right direction. I want to say it one more time, that fucking sucks. I hear you. I acknowledge that not one, not two but three times this has happen to you and that sucks. Maybe see if there is any pattern, or if there is anything on your side of the street that has happened all three times. Basically anything you can control so you can prevent it from happening again once you have housing.

Lastly, we are in it together. I hope it doesn’t come across as a pity, because it’s not. I don’t feel sorry for you. I feel your pain. Your struggle. I feel your burden. I carry it with you, because I have the same one. I too, everyday, ask myself, what is the point? And how do I find the strength to keep going? Because the alternative is to not take advantage of this beautiful life we have been given. I know that sounds like a fortune cookie or some shit, but it’s true. And even if you don’t believe that, look at it through a scientific lens. You are, in fact, alive. And that is a miracle. A chance occurrence that you have the consciousness to write to me.

Thank you, for reminding me that it’s going to be ok. And you are going to be ok too. Not all the time, but you will be ok. And we carry the struggle of life together. I got fired Monday, yup. I am not a good barista it turns out. I have been in a spiral most of the last twenty four hours, and your letter helped me get out of it. This afternoon, I took the first step. I put on an upbeat playlist and walked my barely having faith ass up to the cafe and took the first step. I am not special, so if I can do it, so will you.

I hope my letter helps. And at very least reminds you that asking for help is ok. You took the first step, and we are going to think of a new idiom. You took the first action. That’s what's important. You took action for yourself, and just keep doing that.

You are seen my friend.

Sincerely,

Humans of Denver

9.22