Dear PastMe,

You dumb butt, you didn't set this as a private letter, and I just got an email that it's popular and, I quote, "8 (and counting!) members of the FutureMe community want to know what happened".

It's okay, I still love you, and believe it or not-- it gets better. I very, very vaguely remember when you wrote this, but just barely. Pretty sure you were wasted.

You admitted you had a drinking problem in 2016 and had your final drink ever on December 27, 2016. The second half of your twenties weren't perfect, but they became so much brighter. You turned thirty yesterday, and you are happier than you've ever been in your life. Life isn't perfect, but for the first time in your life you're comfortable in your own skin, and you're finally comfortable not doing whatever it takes to numb your brain so that you don't have to face your problems.

It's going to get better soon. Hold tight. I know you don't think it's possible, but better days are coming.

Love,
Michelle

P.S. Invest in Zoom. It's like Skype, but it'll be important soon.