You might have written my stuff before. Maybe on Webtoon (I wrote some story on childhood and Vietnam culture there), or here on Tapas (ReLearn). If you're a reader of ReLearn, I'm sorry I couldn't continue the story. 

I wrote ReLearn when I was in my last year of high school. I didn't care about studying in school, and I was writing stories and coding somewhat. Which resulted in some programming apps and the webtoon ReLearn. At the time, I wanted to write about the story of me, and my high school best friend, not being able to get into our 'dream' high school, to try to look at the situation through a less dramatic lens and try to find something more important to focus on. It was kinda a gift to her. My friend was sick then. When I was starting college, my friend died. It was at the closing end of Covid. I think I was in shock then. I didn't feel anything about and after her death. I thought I could try to go on with the story to honor her memories, but I got very bad sleep anxiety and insomnia after that. I would lie awake a whole night and could escape my thoughts. If you know John Green (he's the author of The fault in Our Stars and also on YouTube), he talks about his experiences with OCD, talking about getting stuck in thought spirals. That is what my experience was like. I was tired both mentally and physically, and I thought I had to go on. I have to. 

So I quit. 

I'm sorry for abandoning you guys. Really.

After that, I still had quite awful insomnia. It got better for a while but then it gets bad. A year later, I got medication. It got better. I still make medications if I feel like I need them now.

But I know insomnia is just the tip of the iceberg. I have issues that I have to resolve. Things that I have to tackle. It's so hard to look at it in the face and accept it, especially when you're living in an environment filled with young, healthy, and so-so-so productive young people, while you're filled with anxiety and fears and just, want to escape. It felt unfair as hell, and as my brain tells me that there is no point in changing and the only logical reaction is to mull over my pain and cry and pity myself and blame everyone else and feel pain and be sad -

It's miserable.

I was also lucky. In college, I met good people. People who I can call friends. I still haven't told anyone the full story, but I feel like I can trust them. 

And I still love a lot of things. I love my family, and friends, the sky, writing, coding, learning, peanuts, trees and songs and Japanese and vlogbrothers and many many things. I love helping people and making them happy. I love to learn and be nerdy and weird. I love, and love, and love.

I know I have to escape the comfort of my pains and sadness. My escapism fantasy. 

So I will write this. 

The plan is to write this every week. I will try to write every Monday. No matter how busy I get or how terrified or how sick or anything. I will write. I look forward to you, future me, to write. 

There's so much to work on. So so much. 

If you're reading this and you think it's weird that I'm bringing this to the internet, then yeah, I suppose it is. Most of all, I want to bring my trauma and hurt to the light. I thought I'd been hiding them and protecting them for a long enough time. I don't know what it'll do, but what I know is that I have to change something. I'll let the light in.

Another reason is that I want to reach people who are like me, stuck and scared, that maybe with this, we can grow together. I don't know where this story will go, but I want it to have a happy ending. For me, and for you.

May we love ourselves, if not now, then eventually.

---

My heart is so heavy right now...

Alright. Let me tell you about my story. (just a bit)

I have fears of abandonment. This is something I've known about myself for a really really long time. When I thought back to the past, I remember myself in 3rd grade, also trying to write about this topic. She couldn't do it, but it really pushed me to write. Which is funny, I guess I have always tried to escape my trauma but wasn't brave enough.

When I was a small kid, I was sent to live with my grandparents because my mom was too busy to care for 2 kids (me and my little sibling). Once in a while, she would come back and see me. I was very very happy to see my mother, and even though I liked my grandparents, you have to know living with your grandparents is different from living with your parents. Other kids were living with my grandparents as well. My mom would stay with me for a day, we'd tell stories and I would be the happiest kid in the world. But she can only be with me for a day. She worked from Monday to Friday, and she could spend Saturday and Sunday with me. At that time, she would wake up early on Monday morning (like at 2 AM or something) and go back home to her work (at the time my parents lived in a different province). On Sunday night, I would fall asleep with my mother, and I would wake up and my mom would be gone. It repeated for some time, and as I felt fears developed in myself more and more I asked my mom to wake me up when she was gone. She said yes. But she didn't do it. That night, after falling asleep on my mother's arm, I woke up in the middle of the night. My mother wasn't there. I tried calling for her, but she wasn't there. I remember everything so vividly. Everything was pitch black, and I was small. I called out but there was no one there. Overcoming my fear of the dark, I got out of bed, walked down the hall of the cold kitchen night, and into the yard. My mother was nowhere to be found, and the night was pitch black. I started to cry. There was no one there to comfort me. I cried and cried, and I went back to sleep. 

That was the first time I felt abandoned. 

There was more story of this kind in my life, again and again. It developed many mental health problems in me, my fears of abandonment, anxiety, trust issues... Think back, I wish I could have been there to hold my little self as she cried and tell her I would be there with her. That she has nothing to be scared of.

She's still inside me and crying. Sometimes, out of nowhere, I would feel tears falling inside my chest. the sobbing of someone from a long time ago, the salty tears. That sound is contained in a crystal box, somewhere I don't feel like I could or should reach. Among a lot of fears and disappointments. 

I thought I wanted to love her and be her best friend. Future me, if you're reading, please keep going. If not for me, for her. For how long have we left that little kid weeping in the middle of the night? 

I'll do my part to keep going, and I hope you will too.

I've been watching a lot of Anna Akana videos. For now, this is what I'll do:

- I will journal. I will journal every day.

- I will exercise. I will exercise at least 2 times a week.

- I will buy myself a sketchbook and some colored pencils. If I drew some good things, I'll show it to you next week.

- Oh, and I will call for help if I need help. I will call my friend for help. I will try and open up. Yes, I will do that.

I know I'm only so good at saying 'I will' without actually doing anything, but I mean it. If anything is disappointment of hurt or hardship that you encounter, future me, tell me alright. I won't be disappointed in you. I hope you will try as I am trying now.

Write to me, Next week Me.

With love.