Atlanta’s Truth

Atlanta [at-lan-tuh] Georgia’s 5th capital, home to 55+ streets named “Peachtree” population- 5.7 million, largest city in Georgia, host of 1996 olympics and 2000 super bowl


She sits at the coffee shop, staring at the blank document. “How am I going to explain this?” the girl thinks to herself imagining her coworkers’ response. Taking a sip of the cold, icy, frappuccino, she begins typing her letter…


The truth is, I don’t go see a doctor every time I go to Atlanta. I go so I can see my pal, Al. She’s this fabulous human being that keeps me from killing the world. She’s more than just a best friend. She’s that person that makes it nearly impossible to explain just exactly who she is and what she means to me. You see, I’m much more than my cover shows. When you open up my book I’m just a young girl struggling to break down the wall of mental illness. That tattoo on my arm of that butterfly, ya know? It’s way more than that. If you look closely you’ll see a semicolon. A semicolon that represents the life I saved. The words “I love you more” to remind me when my monsters voice is screaming at me that there are people in this world that love me more than I realize. A butterfly because up until February 4, I was just a caterpillar. A caterpillar that had so much more potential to share with the world than it realized. The truth is, behind all of this laughs and endless “random pieces of information” there is someone battling with an eating disorder, depression, anxiety and borderline personality. A person that has to fight twice as hard every minute of every day. A person that deserves a gold star just for making it out of bed in the morning. So when I talk about Atlanta it is far more than just a city or state capital. It is a safe haven. A place where I spent three months paving the roads to recovery. A place that is mending the pieces of a previous treatment center and thanksgiving hospitalization. I teeter back and forth feeling guilty because I take that one day off of work. But that one day of the week is saving my life. That one day is being able to confide in one person that is so comforting yet so raw and real. A person who is my therapist. Yes, you read that write. My “doctors appointment” is actually a therapy session. That day isn’t just a fun day lollygagging. It’s a day to recharge and regroup. Sure I attend an appointment but it’s far more than that. You may ask, why did it take so long for me to reveal the truth? Well, in all reality, for a person like me, it can be embarrassing even if deep down I know I can’t control that I have it. Sure, I don’t have a problem with others knowing but it’s also something I don’t parade around. This can be a difficult concept for others to grasp. I forgive those in advance. I don’t expect anyone to understand where I’m coming from unless they have specifically been in pretty similar shoes. Just like I wouldn’t tell someone with cancer that I understand what they are going through I wouldn’t expect the same for myself because I don’t. All I ask for is acceptance and willingness to learn.


Shutting her laptop, a sigh of relief washes over her. The girl submits her letter to her coworkers. Now to wait…


1 John 4:7 “Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God”


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