A letter from my future self
Dear Current Me:
Greetings from the future! It’s warmer here – global warming and all of that good stuff. You should probably start remembering your reusable mug if you’re going to keep buying tea every morning.
But that’s not what this letter is about.
You’re scared to ask for help — perpetually so — and I just want you to know that this fear is totally okay. You like being in control, and — spoiler alert — that isn’t going to go away as you get older. The idea of not being able to control your own emotions and anxieties also scares you, but that will go away. It’s okay to need help sometimes.
The last time you asked for help, you were deep into what you refuse to acknowledge to be a complete mental breakdown. You were unhappy. You spent three hours every week with your amazingly patient therapist, and you spent 45 minutes of each hour telling him about your parents and their new dog and your best friend’s most recent accomplishment and everyone else you’ve ever known who’d ever done anything mildly interesting before he’d finally stop you.
“I don’t mean to interrupt,” he’d say, “but don’t you think it’s time we talked about you?”
You hated talking about yourself or your problems, because you felt like talking wasn’t going to get you anywhere. Of course, this mindset was entirely counter-intuitive to paying someone to listen to you and make you talk about your problems.
Let’s look at it this way: if you had a broken arm, would you just pretend it didn’t hurt you every time you moved? If you had strep throat, would you just pretend it didn’t hurt you every time you breathed? Would you just ignore it, pretending it would go away on its own, instead of getting the help you actually need?
We both know the answer to dealing with pneumonia is not to pretend it isn’t there and refuse to take a day off from school and work — which reminds me, when I’m finished with this letter, I’ll be off to write one for grade 11 us, who needs some serious help sorting through her priorities. The answer, we both know, is to accept that it’s okay to be imperfect; it’s okay to admit to not being okay.
What’s most important for you to recognize right now is that you’re not “broken.” Anxiety is not like a fractured bone, a sore throat that won’t let you sing in the car, or pneumonia that keeps you in bed all week. Mental illness is something that everyone struggles with, directly or indirectly, on a daily basis. And really, haven’t you been wanting to fit in your entire life, anyway?
Current Me, it’s time to get past your fear of asking for the help you truly deserve. It’s time to face your problems; although you’re currently refusing to believe this, they aren’t going to go away if you just ignore them for long enough. It’s time to accept that you don’t have to live your entire life constricted by your anxieties. It’s time to move on.
It will be great and you will be fine. I’ll be right here waiting for you on the other side.
Love always, a much happier (much healthier) Future You.