December 1, 2018
Dear Tristan,
Hello there. I hope you are doing well. It's been quite a while since I last wrote to you...and even longer since I last spoke to you in person. I don't think we left off on the best of terms, but yours is the only address I remember and I've got a lot to say. Plus, I have WAY too much time on my hands at the moment. Being stuck having your medication and diagnosis re-evaluated at a hospital can do that to you. You know?
Ok, so where did we leave off last time, Tristan? Well, if I remember correctly, we went fishing with your parents. And I knocked your chocolate cupcake into the garbage bin WHICH I SWEAR WAS AN ACCIDENT. Besides, does it really matter all that much? I was only ten years old! But, then again, you were thirteen, and way too cool to put up with me, right? Anyways, I just thought I'd recap that old story just for the sake of humor. Believe it or not, staying on a "funny farm" is not all that funny. Or fun.
So, the doctor has concluded that I do have a mental illness, by the way, but I refuse to be defined entirely and only by Bipolar 1 Disorder. To describe my level of worth and potential by utilizing solely the unfortunate case that is this mental health condition feels, honestly, like an insult because there is so much more to me than that. However, given the circumstances of the times during which we previously met, I was not on any medication. Is that why I was so weird as a kid? I don't know.
Fortunately, after my most recent episode, I've been prescribed some medications. They seem to be, relatively speaking, doing the trick. I don't know though. I can't quite tell how it's all going to work out, because it's only been three days. And I'm feeling really, really tired. Foggy, almost. Been napping a lot. I'm going to try to write you a letter every day. I know it sounds crazy, but I'm going to make that a promise. After all, I don't know anybody in this place, my family is mad at me, and I need to seem productive, or else they might start questioning why I'm so quiet all the time. Feel free to write me back if you want to, but I'll understand if you'd rather not, or can't figure out what to say to me. I just need to do this.
Sincerely,
Mia
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Letters To Tristan
General FictionCan writing letters heal new wounds? After a heartbreaking incident, Mia finds herself admitted to a mental rehabilitation center for evaluation and treatment. During her stay in the hospital, her main consolation comes from writing letters to her c...
