Dear Sixteen Year Old Me-
You've got that phony smile down. They can't see your despair. You wait in dreaded anticipation for another seizure. Your friends have gotten their license. You try to be happy for them, but you're just angry. You were supposed to be first. Your meds are so messed up right now. It takes most of your effort to just walk and talk. That's not mentioning that your hair is falling out. It doesn't bother you though you because your hair is so thick. You go to church and stare at those around you. Wondering why you don't feel that moved. Envying that passion and love of God. Wondering if that gap between you and God will ever disappear.
You don't have much of a social life. A good friend or two, but mostly you feel alone. You sometimes wonder if people would even care if you were gone. Most kids at school think you're a freak and won't bother to talk to you. You find pleasure in killing and torturing them in horrible ways in that poem or story your working on.
Your only escape from this life you hate is your writing, a good book, or even music. Your classes aren't going so well. You can't remember whole parts of lectures. Your hands shake so badly that any craft is nearly impossible. Sometimes the room spins so bad you can't read the test paper right in front of you.
Life seems hopeless. Like a soul sucking black hole that you want to escape from. No matter how hard you run you never seem to go anywhere. Suicide seems like a plausible option. You don't see a future. Just a monotonous existence. Your dreams died along time ago.
What I'm going to say may seem like bullshit. Some made up crap that anyone could say, but seeing as I'm the future you. Shut up and listen up!
That despair you feel will disappear. Happiness is on the horizon. Your future is seizure free. It won't be easy getting there though.
You'll realize yes you are loved and you would have been missed. To your great surprise you'll get married. I know you have visions of being that old lonely lady who bought a hundred cats to die slowly of horrible allergies.
You'll be a mom to. I know the thought scares you and intrigues you. Don't worry you'll do fine. You have a wonderful husband who won't let you insult yourself.
That faith thing your so worried about. Don't worry you'll find it. He'll answer your cry. In fact your faith was strong enough for you to marry a pastor who feeds your faith everyday.
Your life will be filled with joy. You'll dream again. All the crap you suffer will only make you care for others even more.
Sincerely,
Your Future Self.
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