Personal

Expressive Writing — but absolutely not sending — a letter of forgiveness (Part 1)

Part 1 — Recalling the event

Photo by Dan Asaki on Unsplash

I still remember that night. It was three years ago, at midnight. I couldn’t sleep again, and there I was, contemplating life and thinking that the future was hopeless. I was desperate for help as I felt pressure on my chest. (Probably physical symptoms manifested due to anxiety and depression?)

I felt like I needed to let it all out so I reached out to a counsellor by calling a hotline, again. I started to talk about my problems and I couldn’t stop. I was in an extremely negative state, my emotions were flooding and I couldn’t find a way out. It was like going through a maze but every way was a dead end.

In the middle of talking, the counsellor said something that I couldn’t believe.

‘Maybe you can try something else……’

Then, he cut the line with no explanation. (Till now, it feels so surreal to hear that.)

At that moment, it felt like the last bit of light in the dark was absorbed by the universe. Even the universe wanted me to die. As I heard the hang-up sound on the phone, the pressure on my chest hit me hard. The burden on my chest was so strong that I had to lie on the floor. I stared at the ceiling and I slowly crawled to my mum’s bed.

Every time I look back on this incident, I can’t help but shiver. I couldn’t believe these words could be heard from a professional counsellor, which suggests committing suicide. This makes me lose faith in humanity, but somehow maybe it is a tactic used by counsellors. I don’t want to know the answer, I just want to heal from this.

Writing — but not sending — a letter of forgiveness

Lukthru writes about her personal experiences in an attempt to understand the world bit by bit. Her genuine confessions will empower you to find your way to be the best version of yourself. Find out how to live your life to the fullest by subscribing to her free newsletter.