Dear Frank,

I went to the PostSecret exhibit recently and left a secret on a pink index card that said:

I skipped school today.
My eating disorder is back.
I’ve started cutting again.

On my way home I went to my family’s health care provider to ask for help, but instead of helping me they got frustrated with my inability to communicate what was wrong and told me they couldn’t do anything.

I left numb with dejection and hopelessness. I went home and cut myself. I still don’t know why. But I cleaned myself up and just sat in my room staring outside for a long long time before picking up my PostSecret books and reading through all of them completely. I felt a little less alone.

I have no idea if this is the right email address to send this to or if you will even read it. But I am writing this to say Thank you for showing me that I am not alone in my solitude. Thank you for taking time. Thank you for giving the gift of PostSecret.

Credits to postsecret.blogspot.com

Unless you’ve been through it, you won’t know what it’s like wanting help but not knowing how to say anything. When the only words you know how to say is “I don’t know”, and people get frustrated, angry, and then walk away.