One Year Later: A Letter to Hospitalized Me from One Year Later Me

 

TRIGGER WARNING: This poem talks about my suicide attempt in June, 2024. There are mentions of self-harm and other content that may trigger sensitive readers. Do not read this if you are sensitive. If you are triggered by any means reading this, dial 988 or go to your local emergency room or behavioral crisis center.

With that out of the way. I wrote a poem/letter to my past self that went through being hospitalized after my suicide attempt on June 13th, for four days from June 14 - June 19, 2024. This poem is for those who aren't being heard, aren't being seen. I hear you. I see you. I'm with you. Your struggles are valid. 

Without further ado, here is my poem/letter to my past self. I found this very cathartic to write. It felt...freeing to express what my past self was going through at the time and to put it all into words.

One Year Ago Today

By: Samantha Jean Tate
Copyright: 2025 Samantha Jean Tate All Rights Reserved

One year ago today,

You were mad at the world.

You felt unseen, you felt unheard.

The world showed their cruelty

By deafening silence on your prized work of art.

You tried to find comfort through cuts

But they didn't ease the pain.

You reached out for a hug,

Only to be met with screaming and anger.

You ran for the pills in the cupboard

You didn't care if you saw another day or not,

You just wanted something to take away this emotional pain.

You wanted to stop crying.

You wanted to be held and told "I love you. You matter".

But there was no one.

Just angry, frustrated parents who had it up to here with mood swings,

Just acquaintances on the Internet who were too busy to notice your work,

Silence greeted you at the door.

You checked into the hospital,

Proudly admitting 

you tried to kill yourself 

through your tears.

The only person who sat with you 

was mom.

Mom held your hand, 

let you cry, 

and even got you to laugh.

It was a Friday morning when they admitted you,

Your eyes were swollen and red,

From all the tears you cried.

You ran into an old friend,

Who lifted you up 

and snapped you back to reality.

Now one year later,

The people who matter will care

And the people who don't, well, they can kiss themselves goodbye.

You stand tall, proud of your hard work

Proud that you survived what was meant to kill you

And proud for how far you've come in one year.

Dear me,

I am proud of you

All of your struggles will not be in vain

Your voice is heard and you matter

Thank you for sticking around a little while longer.

Hold on, it's going to get better

You'll see

When they see you on talk shows and podcasts

Promoting your number one best seller

I promise your pain will not be squandered,

We shall turn this pain into art,

For the voiceless, for the damned.