"Okay."

Dear Three-Years-Ago Tara,

So you just got fired from work at the hotel, huh? That job sucked anyway. I know it hurts right now and everything feels weird, but you will be okay. I know that saying you will be okay will not be the thing that ultimately makes you okay, but know that I know you will be okay.

Still emailing your professor about that “bug that you just can’t kick”? That is also okay. I mean, it’s not exactly okay that you’re sleeping through your classes and every time your mom calls when you’re supposed to be in school you send her to voicemail so she, like you, can be convinced that you’re doing your best and that you’re above water. 

In a couple days you’ll go to Meijer at 10pm because you can’t fall asleep even with the Benadryl and the Lord of the Rings movie marathon you’ve had going all day instead of going to work at the other job, and waiting for Andy to get home like the good little wifey you are. You’ll wander the aisles of the store, ponder over some veggies you know you should buy, but settle for the Velveeta mac and cheese for the third time this week. You’ll somehow end up with an empty cart, less the mac and cheese, some Vernors, and some of that fancy chocolate that isn’t on sale, but that you put in the cart anyway.

With a foggy head, you’ll be in the cosmetics area, not really seeing anything you want or like, but you’re just kind of looking at things. Revlon. Covergirl. That Baby Lips stuff from Maybelline you’ve wanted to try, but it’s toward the bottom of the shelf and that’s just way too far and too much effort. (Still haven’t tried the stuff to this day, by the way).

Then you’ll end up in the aisle with the nail polish. You were just here the other day, doing this same nothing dance, wandering the aisles of Meijer at midnight, and you bought some purple nail polish with a glitter top coat. You even took a picture of your finished nails and posted it to Facebook, not really expecting the 10 likes you got for that dumb photo.

Anyway, there’s this blue polish that you’ll see. It’s not that cheap shit, the Meijer brand that always chips after a day. It’s the second-to-cheapest brand and the blue will catch your eye. It’s a good blue, you’ll know what I’m talking about. Anyway, buy that nail polish. It’s called “Fly Away”.

Your mom will hate the color when you go home for Thanksgiving and you tell her about your crippling depression and about how you’re starting the meds. You guys will cry on the couch and Nick will be there too. He’ll actually feed you your Thanksgiving dinner that year, one bite at a time, because you are literally too sad to pick up a fucking fork. You’ll sit at that table for hours until you’re done crying in the mashed potatoes.

Mom will take that chipped polish off your nails and paint them a pretty fall color to match her own.

I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. But this is what I remember from that time in life. This time you’re in right now. I know it’s hard, and I know things are not good.

I shouldn’t tell you this, but soon you’ll be on your own. And since you already bought your plane ticket you know you’re going to Spain soon. This trip will literally save your life. Trust that. 

I wish this letter were real and that you could have read this to prepare, but everything is about to get really awful and then really amazing. You won’t leave bed for a few weeks, and then a month will pass. Then two. You’ll move out of that stupid apartment, and I know you can’t see it now, but it’s better that way. You will leave a broken relationship, one that should have ended a long time ago, but you were too afraid and too weak to see that and admit it.

I understand this is hard to hear right now, but you will be alone for a while. That is okay, because that is what you need. You know it, I know it. 

Once you've had that alone time, you will find love again. You will fight it, you will avoid it, you will destroy anything resembling or potentially what could be love, and then one day, you will find it again and it will fit perfectly. 

Three-years-ago Tara, you are going to be okay. You will feel like you can’t move, and most days you won’t. You won’t be hungry, so you don’t eat. And you will fall back into old habits that are self-destructive and harmful and painful and that suck really, really bad.

This is all okay. Because today, I, Present-day Tara, am okay. I shouldn’t spoil the surprise, but I’m about to graduate this weekend. With my Master’s degree. Your Masters Degree, can you even believe what I’m saying right now?

I have already been to Spain, to tons of countries, meet so many amazing people there, and I’ve moved to Chicago (WHAT???) and went back to school.

Mom and Nick and Nana are coming to see me in a few days to celebrate my big day with me.

I know you can’t see it now, but things are going to turn around and be so amazing and so great and your life is so different now. Please remember this when you leave that lonely apartment and move into a hotel in Grand Rapids for a month or so. Take a dip in the hot tub on the especially hard days- it really does help. I know you’re going to do it anyway, but don’t bring Teddy to stay will you in the hotel. He’ll meow and whine all night and it will drive you even more insane than you feel at that moment.

Anyway, I’m saying all this because these are the weird memories that I have looking back three years ago on my life. These are the days that I remember were especially tough. These are the days when you will literally feel like nothing is worth it and like you are crumbling.
Remember when both Abbie and Jonathan told you about how sad the movie “Blue Valentine” is?

Go ahead, watch that movie right now. It really is gut-wrenching. But you won’t shed a single tear.

I dare you to watch a scary movie.

Go to the Redbox by Walgreens and pick the worst one.

You won’t even blink.

So after you’re done feeling sorry for yourself and feeling for months like your world is crashing down, you won’t feel anything at all. 

Complete apathy.

 Just go with it.

The nights will be long, this I won’t lie about, but it will all pass.

These will soon just be little glimmers, short, odd memories of a time in your life when nothing was okay and when you didn’t think you’d make it out alive. The darkness will not consume you, Tara.

You WILL get out of bed. I promise you.

I promise.

You will get out of bed. You will graduate undergrad in December, and everyone will be there cheering you on, the loudest in the crowd, when you walk across that stage.

Just as they will this weekend when I do it all again.

So go ahead, I know you will, buy those obnoxious gold glitter heels you’ll never wear, dye your hair pink, and for the love of God, get on that fucking plane and go to Spain. You will be okay. Keep saying your mantra, don't drink as much as you've been. Go to bed at a reasonable time. 

You will be okay three years ago, and I will be okay this weekend, Present-Day Tara.

You did it when it was impossible, and you made it when you didn't think you would. You are amazing and I am so proud of you.

Congratulations and I’ll be seeing you,
 Tara