Sunday, August 23, 2015

Dear Future Me

I always thought that it would be cool to have journals to look back on, so that I could remember what my life was like years ago. Maybe, by the time I'm ready to look back on this with significance, the internet might cost too much for me to use. Maybe I don't care. I don't know. This feels important.

I'm writing to let you know how awesome you are. How much I think about you all of the time, to remind me how talented and lovely you are. I try to remind myself that it'll get easier, that I won't always be like this forever. 

There are so many questions that I want to ask you. I want to know how you made it through, what you're doing, if life is still hard and if it's worth it. I want to know if you laugh when you're out in the sun and tease your friends and still make movies. If you still laugh at stupid Tumblr jokes.

I wish that I could meet you right now, when it's especially hard. I know that I don't want to die, and that I'm going to hold on for as long as I can. I know that. And I know that life can be awesome. I loved being in Brooklyn and exploring and making movies. I can't imagine how happy I would be doing that for the rest of my life. 

But, what a lot of people don't understand, is that it's not enough for me to know that I might have a bright future. I try to guess, and tell myself, but I really don't know. The idea of suicide is sort of comforting sometimes, because I know that I have the power to end it if I'm miserable for the rest of my life. After all, why, if life is so horrible, would I stay alive?

But now I can't help but think that I might have an awesome life. That I might love living, and might become a cooler version of Lena Dunham. I can't help but hope that I have a beautiful time, and can retire and glance back and be super happy that I lived. But that sort of makes it harder. 

Because, when I feel like I can't breathe under the pain on my chest and no one knows what to do, when people tell me to get over myself, when the medication and therapy doesn't work, I can't simply try to hurt myself. I get super super close, but I always think about you. 

About the future me. 

If you can, I would love to know how you made it. How you got through it. If anything, that's what I need to know right now. And I'll repay you by making sure that you continue to exist. 


1 comment:

  1. Dear (current) Camryn,
    I think you're pretty damn awesome and lovely right now, to say nothing of wry, intelligent and talented. Please know you aren't alone!
    Love from a random fan in Wisconsin