Kiana

No, you’re not falling in a dark hole unto oblivion. You’re here, floating amongst the darkness with the stars—some brighter than others, dull, but alive and glowing nonetheless.

Yes, you’re breathing and walking—little swollen feet wearing worn-out shoes, old clackity soul carrying a tired, heavy body. But it’s fine. You are gonna be fine. Hold on to that.

Maybe you’re not real, or maybe you are. What are the odds of the latter being true? Wait, what’s that? You just passed by a mirror and a pair of eyes were looking right at you, like a twin from another dimension. That may not be enough of a testament to your realness, to your being a person in the world, but give it the benefit of the doubt. Hold on to it. “Trust in the you of now,” said an Instagram photo of a card from Fort Consolation.

This is not a dream in which you suddenly find all the right tools to survive. This is trial and error, calculate and recalculate. Give yourself the space to try and fail, to crouch down on the ground with misery, and to rise up and look people in the eyes again. Give yourself the space to live even when the world restricts you and tells you otherwise. ♦