An Open Letter To My Future Self

Dear Future Self,

Hi there. Hello. I don’t know why I feel weird writing this to you. Which is stupid. Because I’m literally writing this to myself. I don’t know why it feels like I’m writing this to my imaginary friend. I’d understand why I’d feel a bit silly writing that letter. Okay. Not the point.
I feel I should specify which future self I am writing this to. I am writing this to my 21 year old self. I am now 20 years old. Don’t know why I mentioned my age. I’d be a bit concerned, 21 year old Farah, if you didn’t know how old you were a year ago. I mean, 20 isn’t that bad.
I don’t think it is. Yes, I do feel lost. And yes, I also feel quite hopeless sometimes.
I’m going through a rough patch at the moment. I have been for some time now.
I’ve been looking at my screen for a while now and I just can’t find the words to describe how bad I’m feeling, and I frankly don’t want to. I don’t have it in me. I’m tired. I’m always tired. And my hopelessness is like a rock that I always carry in one of my lungs. I don’t feel like reading. I don’t feel like talking to my friends. I’ve avoided calls. I don’t want to sit with my family. I can’t. It’s not always like this. But this mood has been coming up more often than not. I hate that. I’ve gained weight. I just feel so low. I feel like a loser. And I hate that feeling. I hate feeling like a loser. That’s something I’ve been feeling for quite some time now. I haven’t felt like I’ve achieved something in a while. I haven’t written in a while either. Everything I write feels bad. And I have so much anger inside me. I’m becoming very short tempered. Especially with Mama and Daddy. I hate that too. They don’t deserve it. I find that I’m disliking my current self. Maybe even hating her. She’s all talk and no action. All false hope. I’m all talk and no action. I never do the things I say I’m going to do. I don’t know why. I’m going to try and change that.
This is a depressing letter. I’m sorry. But you understand. I know you do. I promise to talk care of myself for you. For us. Hopefully I do something both of us will be thankful for.
Till next time, friend.


You a year ago.

ps.  I am not sure if I will write to you again. But I’ll keep you posted. (Does that make sense?)


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