To my friends who sit holding my hands, breathing with me and reminding me that I am okay and I’m safe.
To my friends who sit up at night with me, who have helped me dress my cuts, stopped me from shaking. Who have created the calm.
To my friends who don’t take my silence as being rude, and who still invite me places. Even though I probably wont show up.
To my friends who have stuck with me for so long and know when things are too much. Who make me feel less alone, and not like a freak when being around people is just too much for me to bare.
You bring me out of my panic mode, when I am unable to do it myself. You might not see it, but you do. You help me more than you will ever know, and you miss out on being able to do things with me because you know I wont always be able to cope with it. Which I know is not always fair on you either.
I know you have better things to do than to sit outside in the cold, shivering, whilst giving me sips of water and stroking my hair and telling me that I’ll be okay. Whilst you’re begging me to believe you. I do believe you, but in that state, my brain does not.
I hate that it doesn’t just affect me, but it affects you too. I feel so guilty that I bring this to your door, but the fact that you stick around means so much to me. Even when I push you far away, you’re always there when I need you. No questions asked.
To my friends, who put up with me, love me and who support me always.