To the person who destroyed my life

Kære Neve
Det er nu 48 dage siden at du smed mig ud fra Skive Handelsskole. Eller som du ville sige det "sat på standby". Nej, jeg er stadig ikke ovre det. Jeg tænker på det hver dag. Så nu vil jeg forsøge at få styr på mine følelser, gennem dette brev til dig.
Jeg føler at jeg har brugt for lang tid på at være ked af det, over det her - men jeg er fortsat ked af det. Dog har jeg i netop dette øjeblik, fået midlertidigt vendt min sorg til vrede. Hvem skal jeg være vred på? Mig selv først og fremmest, men det er ikke noget nyt, og det er egentlig en konstant følelse for en pige som mig. Men eftersom jeg har gået de sidste 48 dage og gået over hver eneste lille bitte detalje, omkring hele seancen den dag, må jeg indrømme, at en del af vreden også er tildelt dig. Jeg åbnede mit hjerte for dig og bad om hjælp, og din reaktion var at afvise mig. Hvad kalder man det? Hmm.. Der hvor jeg kommer fra kalder man det "at træde på én der allerede ligger ned"!!
Skolen var det sidste jeg havde at holde fast i, Henrik - Og det tog du fra mig. Du tog det fra mig. Du tog mit aller sidste holdepunkt, og lod mig falde. Og jeg faldt, åh om jeg faldt. Hvis jeg sagde til dig før, at mit liv var et helvede, så var det løgn. NU er mit liv helvede. Jeg brænder op indeni. Jeg sidder HVER EVIG ENESTE NAT, og tænker "Hvorfor ikke? Jeg har jo alligevel intet tilbage". Jeg har intet mål længere Neve, for det tog DU fra mig! Du tog det sidste jeg havde at holde fast i, og rev det fra mig, med så kort varsel at jeg ikke engang havde tid til at forberede mig på, hvad jeg skulle gøre. Og hvad gør jeg så? Jeg falder Neve! Jeg falder! Dybere og dybere for hver dag! Og det er vores skyld Neve! Din og min.
"Du er for syg til at gå her". Det var dine ord. For syg? Så psykisk syge har ikke ret til en uddannelse!? Er jeg for syg til at få en uddannelse!? Du SMED mig ud, om du vil indrømme det eller ej! Du tog alt fra mig! Jeg sidder her med en stor fed klump i halsen og tårer i øjenkrogene, mens jeg skriver det her. For er du klar over, hvor hårdt det er? Hvor hårdt det er at leve med absolut intet? At leve, når du ved at du ikke duer til noget? At du ikke kan noget? At ingen tror på dig? NEJ! For du aner ikke hvordan det er!! Du har ingen idé om hvor meget smerte du har forvoldt mig! Du troede du gjorde mig en tjeneste, og tog vægten af mine skuldre - men nej. Du skubbede mig ud over kanten, og nu har jeg intet tilbage.
Jeg har ramt bunden Neve. Dette er resultatet af din beslutning. Mit liv er intet værd længere. Jeg kunne lige så godt være død, og det ville være en lettelse for alle. For mig selv, min familie, mine venner, alle jeg kender, og alle jeg ville møde i fremtiden. Den eneste der ville lide skyld af det, er dig. Og åh hvor jeg ønsker at du skal føle skyld. Jeg ønsker at du skal lide ligesom jeg har lidt. Jeg ønsker at du skal LIDE under min beslutning, ligesom jeg har lidt under din. Jeg ønsker at du skal leve med smerte og skyld resten af dit liv, ligesom jeg har levet med det hele mit.
Så lyder spørgsmålet igen: Hvorfor ikke? Hvorfor tager jeg ikke bare mit eget liv, og gør en ende på alt den anger, vrede, skyld, sorg og angst, og som bonus får en hævn, du ikke kan undslippe? Hvorfor?
- Jo ser du.. Hvis jeg gjorde det, så ville du have vundet. Du lod mig sejle i min egen sø, og det ville være et nederlag at synke sig selv.
Jeg håber du får et langt og elendigt liv. Du er en afskyelig og ussel person. Brænd op i helvede, svin.

Kiri Rehmeier

Letter Challenge Day 13

A letter to someone you wish could forgive you.

Dear ED

We were the best of friends for years, and I spend all my time with you - every waken hour. At first you seemed like the answer to all my problems, and we had our little secrets. We did everything together, and every time you were a little distant, I kept thinking these thoughts no matter what situation I was in: "What would Ana do?" "What would Ana say?" .. I did it all because you meant so much, and I didn't ever wanna let you down. For years I did everything I could to make you happy.. But the thing is Mia-Ana... You were never happy? And since you we're never happy, I was never happy. Your feelings affected me so much, they became my feelings. Sometimes I miss you. Sometimes I just want to give it all up, ask you for forgiveness and be friends again. But I know better now.

I spend 4 years of my life trying to make you happy. It took me 4 years to figure out the fact that it was YOU who made me miserable. The truth is that you stole my life. My youth. After I stopped listening to you I became more and more like a person again. I found myself again, cause during those 4 years, I hadn't been me - I was you. You lived through me. You abused me, and used me to for fill your purposes and dreams.

All the girls out there wanting to be your friend... They're making the biggest mistake of their lives INVITING you into it. I mean honestly, you don't bring along anything good. Your purpose is to destroy other people's lives. To kill. You made me feel like I wasn't worthy of anything. That I wasn't good enough for anyone or anything. You almost made me kill myself. I was unhappy every day because of you. I still am. It's your fault that I got my depression in the first place.

But today I know better. I know you from the inside out, you shallow bitch. You are the worst friend one could have. You are the friend that want's to hurt others. The kind of friend that puts your pain onto others.

I have a tattoo on my hand. A tattoo which will remind me every day for the rest of my life, that we were friends, but that I am stronger than you are. I won. I will always win.

Never again

Kiri Rehmeier

- This blog is dedicated to all the little girls out there wanting to be your friend. So stupid. So naive. 

Letter Challenge Day 6

A letter to a stranger

Dear stranger
I saw you on the train once. You are an elderly man. At least 70 is my guess. You were shaking. Your hands were so unsteady. You were looking out the window - you looked kinda lonely actually. You looked at me and I smiled. You smiled back, but didn't notice that I kept looking at you. Observing you. You had an old FjällRäven bag, which you had a hard time getting from the floor onto your lap. You clearly had trouble with your back. You reached into your bag, and found a Rittersport. The squared chocolate bar. It was the one with nougat - one of my personal favorites actually.
The chocolate had already been opened, and only the half was left. You cracked the chocolate into smaller pieces, and took one out of the rapping. With your large fingers and shaky hands, you put the chocolate piece to your mouth, but you dropped it. You dropped the piece into your lap. That almost made me cry. But you didn't seem to mind it. As if it had happened a couple of times before. You picked up the chocolate, and put it in your mouth despite your shaky hands. A smile spread on your face. Just a little smile, one you barely notice. I could clearly see that you took your time to enjoy the sweet soft piece of chocolate. I knew then, that I shouldn't feel sad for you. You didn't want sympathy, cause you were still able to live.
I saw a sort of courage in this scenario. You looked like one of those old guys who wouldn't let people help you, unless you'd become completely disable.
I admired that. I felt like hugging you. I don't know why..
You looked like the lovely grandpa type. Both of my grandfathers died before I was 8 years of age. But I think I'd be honored to have a grandpa like you.

I don't know if you're dead by now.. But a man who loves life so much that he takes time to enjoy every little piece of chocolate, and with the courage I saw a trace of? I don't think so.

Sincerely
Kiri Rehmeier, a stranger you once smiled at on the train.