A letter from March 14th, 2021

Dear FutureMe, Today is my 16th birthday, and instead of living life and being proud of what I’ve achieved... I spent it crying and suffering alone. I don’t want to celebrate the fact that I wasted 16 years of my life without truly living. I don’t want to celebrate that instead of being a normal teenager, I’ve been battling mental illnesses my whole life. I don’t want to celebrate my life, because truly, I just want it to end. I’ve been struggling with symptoms of psychotic depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder and borderline personality disorder for the past four years, and it hasn’t been easy. I tried to get help so many times, but no one has taken me seriously. My mom, my family, various counsellors - all they’ve done is dismiss me and invalidate my disorders by blaming it on hormones. I even tried to take my own life a couple of months ago, but what happened? I was brushed under the rug. I haven’t receive any help, not then and not now either. I guess I’m in this all alone. I don’t know where you are, or what you’re doing now, future me. But I hope you’re reading this letter smiling and somewhat content with your life. I hope that you received the help you desperately needed, and progressed onto achieving your dreams. I hope that you fell in love, at least once in these five years. I hope you received the grades you wanted for GCSEs, and for A-Levels. I hope you were accepted into University of Oxford, your dream university. I hope you studied psychology, your favourite subject. I hope you became what you’ve always wanted to be - a writer, a journalist, a clinical psychologist, or maybe all three. And most of all, I hope that you’re truly happy. I love you. I know that no one ever tells you this, considering that your dad lives across the globe and your mom, our mom, is...well, emotionally unavailable I’ll say. You are worth it. Don’t give up, and always chase your dream. May we meet again. - your mentally ill 16-year-old self :/