A letter from Jul 22, 2022

Hey, I'm desperately writing another letter to myself in the future. Today, I am sitting in my room feeling as alone as ever. My last semester of undergrad starts exactly a month from now. The uncertainty of the future eats me alive every day. School is the only thing that feels like a constant in my current life. I have a plan more or less for the future but everything still feels so uncertain. I don't know if I even have a chance of getting into grad school so I hope by the time that you get this that you're about to graduate from GC school or you're in a well-paying job and in your own place by now. That's if we're still alive by then though. I think about us dying almost every day. This was actually supposed to be a suicide note but I feel bad having something like that lying around. Not like anyone has ever found anything I've written without me wanting to. I feel like I've been screaming into the void for as long as I can remember. I know depression never really goes away but I can feel the will leaving my body as I type. I always say that I've given up hope but I haven't yet...at least not completely. Even though I haven't, I feel hopeless, useless, worthless, and all the other words that describe how "less-than" my very being is. My days are filled with this crushing despair and underlying frustration that I can't shake. I do the same thing over and over again but breaking the monotony leaves room for thoughts. Frustratingly, the never-changing routine feels pointless and wasteful too. No matter what I do, the thoughts are always there. Life and existence just feels crippling and my only escape seems to be *****. It's hard to explain but I'm sure you remember the feeling. Deep down, I know we want to get better and not be stuck in a cycle of persistent self-loathing. I won't lie, it'd be extra depressing to be reading this back and still stuck in the same place. I feel like my current self would be extremely depressing for younger us. Do I finally get peace? Will I ever get peace? Three years isn't that long but right now it feels like a long time from now. There are so many questions I wish I could get answers to right now. Answers that I probably won't even have three years from now. I do hope that when we're reading this back years from today, we'll get that feeling of pity (?) for the current me. Y'know that feeling where you get sad for how sad you used to be. Key word is 'used to'. I have that feeling when reading old diary entries sometimes. But most of the time it's a longing for when my problems were "simpler". I know my depression still felt crushing at times but I wish I was back in that time when I didn't know just how vast and scary the world actually is. When I didn't realize how much I'd wish I had the body I did five years ago. I hope there is a future where I can reflect and be happy that my life is the way it is in the current moment. I want a future where my current self is the best version of myself. I guess that's a lot to ask for in three years but it doesn't have to be complete by then --just in progress. I wish for all of this but there's a voice in my head that tells me it's wishful thinking to hope that anything will change. It tells me that it will always be the same and I'm just wasting my time. In a way, I feel like it's right. I read through my previous FutureMe letters and they all have this naïve optimism that I'll somehow be better by the time I get it. Funnily and unsurprisingly enough, I never am and am usually in a worse place than I was before. Year after year of the same feelings no matter what changes. I guess it's human nature to hope that the future holds something better. If my experiences have shown me anything, it's that people rarely ever change that much especially if they're in the same circumstances. So maybe when I read this in the future I'll cringe at the edginess but also acknowledge that the voice was right all along. Or, I might finally exceed my limit and decide that I truly can't hold on any longer. Then this letter would essentially be pointless. Even though it's hard to believe it will be the case, I hope that we're happier by the time I read this. If not, I don't really know what we should do. I always thought that I wasn't meant to make it past high school graduation. Here I am, three and a half years later almost at college graduation. I feel like I wasn't cut out for life. Like I wasn't meant to make it this far. It feels cruel that against all odds, I'm still here. Still depressed and anxious. Still the same. The only thing that has changed is how jaded I've become. If we are still alive, tell the people close to you how much you care about them. I hope that I'll find it in me to care about us too. All the best, Past Me