To the barista from that corner cafe,
You made my coffee today. Not only mine. You have been diligently pouring the milk, spraying the chocolate on the froth, wiping the table, making some of the coffees with extra froth (I didn’t know that was an option). I was delighted holding a cup of small cappuccino with no sugar in my hands and feeling the real taste of coffee – not too milky and not burnt. Thank you. That coffee made my day.
To the patient, I had the other day,
I read your file before you came. It said “be careful when testing. A sensitive patient”. I want you to know that your mental illness doesn’t define you. I thought about you several times during the week. You had so many illnesses, incidents and medications, yet you kept smiling. Perhaps you don’t realise, but you have made me reconsider things that make me upset. Being the same age as me, you gave me the perspective of how difficult my life could have been. Thank you.
To that person who wanted to know where I was from,
There are many of you, with different variations. Some of you ask me where my parents are from, some – what language I speak, some others – where I am originally from. You really don’t need to feel awkward asking me directly. I am proud of my heritage and I am proud of my accent. In general, an accent means that the person can speak more than one language. So, I won’t give up my accent anytime soon (I probably wouldn’t be able to anyway). I don’t get offended, and to be honest it is vaguely entertaining. Especially the “originally” bit.
To the guy from the 7th grade who had a crush on me,
I am really not that hard to impress. You didn’t need to jump off the second-floor window for me. Thank you though, it was thoughtful. And, I am glad you are alive.
To my childhood piano teacher,
Why did you have to torture me like that? You really didn’t need to pull my hair, drop the piano lid on my hands or lock me up in your basement for 4 hours to force me to practice. You see, in the end, I didn’t really become a distinguished classical musician. In fact, I believe I have a phobia to play anything on the piano now.
To the author of a random blog that I encountered yesterday,
Please, keep on shedding light on the topics of anxiety and depression. I don’t know you, but I believe we will meet one day. Reading your blog made me realise that I’d like to help you whether it is through a conversation or reassurance that being undecided what to do with your life is totally ok. It won’t be like that forever. We are so concerned about what career path to take, who to date, how to live without making mistakes that we forget to live. Please, look after yourself. Your worth extends beyond your career.