Anonymous

Photography by Colleen Charchut

If you’re reading this, you’re not the only one to wonder: what would life have been like had we not grown up with such advanced technology?

A toxic place, a breeding ground of negativity,
creating a fake attachment, a contest for popularity.
where ordinary people compete to be the best,
hidden behind woven lies, none of which are addressed.
like poison ivy, its beauty contrasted the truth
that this toxic place will steal their youth.

Like its original intention, they had grown far too attached.
no, they were not crazy, please stop with that.
was it really their fault or was it the beauty
of the alluring and entrancing poison ivy?
they wanted to break free but it was still so enticing
the friends they never had, the home so deceiving.
their forbidden escape, what they wanted from the start
but now it seemed this only ached their heart.

A single mistake has shattered one’s trust-
with their broken courage, it was hard to adjust.
just like the consuming shadow already present,
their mistakes became more and more frequent.
it was hard to tell whether they hate them or not
but they were fairly certain they were a thought;
"what a nasty piece of work!"
"yes, agreed, they’re such a jerk!"

Maybe this was their exaggerating, they still couldn’t tell
whether or not they were under a tacky spell,
simply for the thoughts and actions they take,
that god's disappointment in them was not fake.
they realised that all will say it's just an app,
but to them it was way more than that.
their addiction, a life they never had
yet it was another reason why they were sad.

They would scream it to the rooftops; they hated them so much!
they hated their mistakes: their mind was a crutch.
they wished they could turn back time to the moment
where the words they’ve spoken or things they’ve chosen
did not happen, where it did not pass
for their mindset was already as fragile as glass.
and by then it had shattered, lost to the wind
as expected, peace we could no longer bring.

So for phase one of their 'love yourself' guide,
they apologised for their hurt, for silently they cried.
the pain they had felt for making these mistakes
was not worth feeling for the trust that breaks.
accidents are one thing but now they learned
that the trust they yearned for must be earned.
anxiety had been knocking at their door for days,
they were so sick and tired of being stuck in that phase.

They hated the sadness they had been trapped in,
for that they couldn't even crack a grin.
this constant fear of the judgement that awaits
those burdens stacked on their shoulders as heavy weights.
it hurt for months, god it hurt so bad,
and yet their mind worried that they'll still be mad.
their mind split in two, logical and irrational-
later, it actually seemed rather laughable.

The venom of the poison ivy coursed through their veins
with anxiety and sadness following like heavy chains.
they were stuck, unable to break free, nothing worked
to calm their mind of the worry that stirred.
all they saw was blue and grey, they'd lost the colour.
it just seemed as if they were left to suffer
under the watchful eyes of the powers
with their mind drowning in worries for hours.

They noticed that they had no more tears left to cry,
and someone asked what's wrong; again they must lie
to hide from them the home, the poison ivy
the addiction embedded into their psyche.
they wished to leave but then again, they wished to stay,
their fear of judgement embracing the gloomy grey.
the pain, it was too much, it seemed they couldn’t handle
a terrifying ordeal, their first-ever scandal.

Having always been one for perfection, it was a shock
to be on the end of the spectrum, to force to walk
a ‘hall of shame’, for which they have felt undesirably over,
basically from their life, a complete turnover.
they wished to move on but it seemed they couldn’t,
the side effect that made them want to rant.
it seems time will tell on whether they fall or survive,
maybe they’ll be surprised, maybe they'll thrive.

For once, they do not doubt
that the poison ivy will pass.
for once, they fortunately believe
that they embrace my strength.

They have hope.

Anonymous, Northwestern University

Connect With Us

To follow IfYoureReadingThis at Northwestern on Instagram, get in touch with our chapter, and learn about more resources available to Northwestern students, visit our chapter’s homepage.

AUTHOR CONTACT

This author has opted to allow readers who resonate with their story to contact them. If you would like to speak to the author of this letter about their experience, please use the form below.