A letter from November 27th, 2020

Dear Me in the future, I don't really know what I am going to write in this letter. I am currently sitting on the couch in Grandma and Grandpa's living room, watching everyone finish their leftover pie that they grabbed after our meal. Christian is sitting next to me, explaining a game to Anastasia. Where are you now? Are you in our bedroom, are you with someone else? How are you mentally, emotionally? Right now we are doing pretty good all things considered. My problems are all emotional right now, but I know I'm never going to get rid of those. I know it's kind of a bleak outlook, but what would my life be if it didn't have emotional baggage. I am surprisingly happy right now, all things considered. My schoolwork is difficult, but not unmanageable. I have good friends who care about me. I have a car, and I haven't fought with my parents in quite some time. I think I'm starting to realize that most of the pain that I feel is self-inflicted. The stress from everyday life, and from certain relationships is usually all my fault. I think if I somehow realized that the key to my happiness is self-acceptance my life would be tons easier. And maybe you've realized that. Maybe you are happy, and you are looking back thinking "what a dramatic 16 year old" and you will quickly close this letter, hoping that no one will see it. My life is good, and I am happy. But I need to accept myself. A couple of weeks ago I hit 126 lbs. I was so happy with how I looked and felt. The reality was that I was hungry, and it was because I hadn't eaten more than 700 calories a day for about a week. I'm punishing myself mentally, because I'm back to 128 lbs. I'm worried about school on Monday, if the change will be noticeable. I've tried to come up with some way I can get ahead again. The courts are covered in snow now, and I can only go to the gym if I'm accompanied by my dad. Yesterday I had the thought of trying to throw up my food, because of how bloated I felt. The only thing holding me back was that promise I made to myself all that time ago that I would never make myself throw up. It's holding strong now, but I'm concerned. What's ridiculous is I don't feel like I can catch up at all. What I wouldn't give to know what people think of my physical appearance. My hair is frizzy and my eyebrows are bushy and I have big legs with small feet. I don't want to look different, but it seems like this puzzle I can never solve. It's so vain of me to put so much worth into my physical appearance, but it terrifies me. To think that the people I like don't like me because of some flaw in my face or body. I have put meaning in small actions that really mean nothing but I interpret as rejection. It seems like a curse. I am too used to my face to deem it attractive or unattractive, and my body will never look the same in the mirror as it does to others. It's a depressing reality. I hope that you will have some answer for me. That you will be able to look at this letter and think "how dramatic, to feel so much frustration over something that means nothing and has so little weight". I hope you are happy and in love. I've wanted that for so long. To love someone and to know without a doubt that they love me back. But most of all I hope you are content with your life.