Okay, a bit of information before you read.

This was written around April of 2003, when I (LadyWillow) was going through some severe depression. This was an actual email to a close adult friend of mine who works as a co-leader of the local GSA (Gay/Straight Alliance). I was really really upset, and didn't know who else to turn to, so I wrote to him. This is the actual email, completely unaltered.

And in case anyone is concerned, soon after this, I went into treatment, and found out I have extreme anxiety disorder as well as clinical depression. But I'm on some nice pretty pink pills now, and the world is a lot better. :D

And if one were to visit my website now, the ‘About Me' page has been SEVERELY revamped.

Ramblings of a Distraught Mind
By: LadyWillow

Yeah I can't really remember if this is Jordan, but
lets pretend that it is. Hi Jordan! How be you?
It's nearly midnight and I'm writing to you because
I've decided that my life sucks ass and I really need
to talk to someone before I go insane.
Get this: Some 'Concerned Christian of Wisconsin
Rapids' wrote a letter to my grandparents. Well,
actually they went on my website, printed my about me
page, and then proceeded to highlight everything in
the about me page that was questionable. My being
Wiccan, the music I listen to (Manson and such), and
of course the whole being gay issue. I'll bring this
vile thing with to the GSA so everyone can mock me and
call me and idiot for trusting mankind enough to put
up my full name on the internet. Yeah, so at the
bottom of this little print out they wrote "Please
pray for this girl and others like her." They then
sent this to my grandparents, who are extremely
conservative. So, they called my mom, and asked her
about it, and then mom freaked out and called me, and
I was surprisingly calm about it until she handed the
letter to me and I was actually looking at my about me
page used against me and my words twisted and this
strange handwriting all over it that surely wasn't
mine, and the whole thing was put out ultimately to
make my life hell, which it already is. And that's
when it hit me: In the big scheme of things, this is
all pointless. All the fights, all the pain,
everything has no real purpose. So, I decided that
this was no big deal. Then relatives started calling.
that's how fast news travels in my family. They were
all asking questions and my mom and I got to spend our
entire evening placating concerned relatives, who
fortunately didn't get the same letter. Yet. grandma
went and called everyone she knew and told them all.
She outed me to a ton of very very religious people,
and now I'm going to be uncomfortable around all these
people that I grew up with.
But, to the whole pointless comment. Seriously, I
don't find the point in anything anymore. I don't
know what it is, but even for band which I've always
loved, I don't really see the point in competing in
solo and ensemble, or auditioning for the Wind
Ensemble next year, or playing in Jazz band... I don't
find the point in doing anything except laying in bed
and wondering when I'm going to die. What is wrong
with me? I really don't understand myself anymore.
I'll be thinking, and all of a sudden these thoughts
will just pop into my head uninvited. Someone is
putting them there. It can't be me. I don't think
about the kind of things I think about. That makes no
sense. Heh, my whole brain makes no sense. My whole
thought process makes no sense. I'll be sitting in
English class, like today for example, reading the
greek myth about Niobe, and all of a sudden this
lovely graphic image of myself dead pops into my head.
It was kinda lovely actually. Which was scary. After
words, that I thought it was lovely that is. It was
thrilling. I was dead, some ass killed me (gay
bashing, my worstest fear) and everyone was
surrounding me with this "Oh my god we killed her
what have we done? We're horrible people" look on
their faces, and I was so happy because 1 I was dead,
and 2 they were sorry that they had done it. I felt
like for once I was good for something. And after I
saw this (saw as in thought, just not a Me thought,
this makes no sense) then I was horrified and had to
go to the bathroom 'cause I thought I was going to be
sick. And this isn't the first time I've saw stuff
like this. Usually though it's self inflicted owies.
Which is even more lovely, I must say. Makes me feel
like I control something in this icky existence I
have.
Do I even have the right to feel sorry for myself?
I just feel selfish now. Other people have it much
worse then me... and it seems cheap of me to blame
these thoughts that are so obviously not my own... I
can't explain it... I just can't control my mind a lot
of the time... it'll make me think things I don't want
to think. It'll make me question my friends and
family, it'll make me think about all these horrible
things that I don't want to think about, and it's like
it's forcing me. I CAN'T make it stop. I can't
stress to you enough how much I can't make it stop.
And it's scaring me. And you happen to be the first
person to know just how much it's scaring me, or even
that It exists. I don't know what It is. It's evil.
It won't stop attacking me.. it's like a parasite or
something, and it's feeding off of me, and it wont
stop until I'm completely broken, which isn't too far
off.
Part of me wants to think that this whole thing is a
test. The thoughts/voices, the hurt and the visions,
all something to test me to see if I'm worthy of a
destiny or something... like I'm going to get my real
wish if I don't end up offing myself before I grow up.
The chance of that is getting slimmer every day. I
just wanna be remembered after I die for something. I
don't want to be forgotten after I die, because for me
it seems like once no one remembers me then I'm really
dead, and I'm really gone, and I don't want that. I
don't want my grave to be the one all covered with
grime and moss in the cemetery, that the kids all try
to decipher to see who it was, but they can't quite
see all the letters, so they pronounce my name wrong
and try to resurrect my spirit or something. I don't
like that. At all. I don't wanna be forgotten, but I
realize that I'm going to be because I have to
extraordinary skills that would make me remembered. I
can play the flute and piano. Woo. Go me. I write.
Barely. I do nothing that would keep me remembered.
I look at Gandhi and I know that he's held very dear
to the Indian people, but also to people all over, and
I can't even fathom putting every bit of me into
another person like that and having this blind faith
that they'll help me, and yet I think that's what I
want to be. I don't know, I'm just confused and I'm
pouring everything onto you and I'm sure you don't
want to hear me ramble on about how much I just wanna
be rid of everything sucky in my life. But Gods,
Jordan, you have no idea how much I just want to be
done. And it would be so easy, too. There's plenty
of ways that I could just be done with this whole
living thing. Plenty. But I'm too chicken to even
help myself out of this mess. I hate being helpless,
but that's what I am. I feel incredibly alone. I
tried to tell my parents that I'm afraid of my own
mind tonight, but they just blew me off and told me to
go to bed. Great. Thanks for the help mom. Love you
too. (sarcasm alert)
Yeah. I'm going to go to bed now. Well, I'm going
to go stare at my celling until my alarm clock goes
off at 6:30, like I do every night. Yeah, tried to
tell my parents that I simply do not sleep, and dad
told me to take deep breaths and make my body tense
and then relax it. It's like "dude, I'm Wiccan.
that's how I'm supposed to go into the theta state to
astrally project. I know how to relax my body. It's
not my body that needs relaxing." So I asked him if
there was a brain version of that specific exercise
and he got all pissy with me like he always does and
sent me to bed. Wow. Thanks for the help and
support. Hope it's you that finds my dead body some
day in my bed with my wrists slit or something. Bit
of sarcasm there, don't get too worried Jordan. -_-;
Yeah, I'll go bye bye now. This email is the
closest I've ever come to actually being able to put
into words my brain problem and the fact that I can't
control it. Right now it's making me relive various
painful outings.. actually Becky abuse right now...
joy. thanks brain, appreciate it. Joy. Yeah, so
anyway I'm going to print this out but not save it
cause my dad will find it and freak out or something,
but I want a copy of this so that I can look at it and
try to find a better way to explain my head then "I
think things, but it's not me thinking". Which does
actually sum it up, in a confusing way. Sigh, bye bye
Jordan. Thankies for 'hearing' me out. I feel kinda a
little bit better. Shaky, but better. I go pretend
to sleep now. Buh bye.

~Jess