Katie C.
Photography by Cat White
If you’re reading this, you are strong enough to outlast the darkness and learn to love life again.
Journaling was recommended to me years ago by my old therapist and I’ve become pretty lax with the frequency of my writing. The only time I ever force myself to write is New Year’s Eve. Over the last five years, I’ve made it a personal tradition to write my future self a letter reflecting on the past year. Through this activity, I’ve been able to see tangible progress in my self-growth— progress I once believed to be impossible.
Early in high school, I began to get a sense that my experience wasn’t the same as everyone around me; I couldn’t understand why everyday tasks and social interactions made me more anxious. Back then, I hardly noticed how I was feeling until things would get unmanageable. In 2020, the lockdown and moving school online brought everything to the surface. All the structure I didn’t realize was a guardrail disappeared and I started to lose myself. Formerly a straight-A student, I stopped doing all of my school work as I became overwhelmed by the constant battle of anxiety and apathy that rendered me useless. At this time, I started going to therapy for panic attacks.
The hardest part was how unavoidable it all felt. From the moment I opened my eyes in the morning, I physically felt it— my chest was so uncomfortably empty it hurt and my arms were heavy to the point I could hardly move. Worse, once my body was online, my brain would also wake up. “I hate that I’m like this but I can’t change anything because I’m a failure.” “I’m a bad friend and a burden to my family.” “I probably did something to deserve this.” There wasn’t a single moment during the day where these thoughts didn’t occupy my mind. While I originally was relieved to finally receive help, I started to believe that no therapy would work because the helplessness I felt hadn’t subsided.
The end of 2020 was when I wrote my first letter. I wrote paragraphs about the defeat I felt. I wrote over and over how I didn’t think it was possible for my situation to ever change. I poured my utter apathy for life into writing and put in ink that “It just all doesn’t feel worth it anymore.” But I never wanted to stop living, and at the very center of all the pain I felt was a tiny pearl of hope I wasn’t able to consciously acknowledge. I ended my letter with words that looking back feel magical: “You have no idea where you could be in a year.”
I didn’t notice when I stopped waking up feeling like I’d already lost. At some point, I just had a new baseline. My journal entries between 2020 and 2021 are sporadic. I eventually stopped remembering to journal because it was always a coping skill. I must’ve felt nostalgic with 2021 ending, because I went back and reread all the journal entries I’d written. I mainly remember being uncomfortable. With only a year passing, my letter to end 2020 felt like it was written by a completely different person. To this day, I can still remember the deep sadness that drove me to believe there was no hope for me; I simply don’t feel it anymore.
At the end of 2021, I wrote, “Exactly a year ago, I was entirely sure that there was nothing left for me to get out of my life and that I could never be better. It’s strange to think that there’s no one moment that changed my mind. I have observable growth in a year which I, at one point, thought was impossible. I’m okay… I am alive and I have dreams. Even if I didn’t, I want to keep living.” I started and ended the letter with the best affirmation I’ve ever given myself, “You have no idea where you could be in a year.” Three years later, I still make sure to repeat my magical phrase to start and end my yearly reflections to both will myself on in the future and to remember how far I’ve come.
Depression is the mental illness with the highest likelihood of relapse— I’ve experienced this firsthand. The difference between the beginning of my battle and now is I can savor the good moments and know there are more ahead— each passing year is the best of my life. Going to therapy was my best decision because it taught me I was capable of doing more than letting my mind beat me down. I also value those difficult periods of my life which gave me the perspective to recognize the commonality between all of my darkest moments is that they’ve passed. I’ve lost myself, and come out the other side a stronger version of me— different, yet still me.
It’s not easy work, but there is nothing in the world more worthwhile. Everyone deserves to grow to a place where they can love themselves unconditionally and feel ready to weather whatever storm is ahead. Progress doesn’t happen overnight, but it is important to take steps to prioritize your health, which often includes asking for help. If you’re reading this, you are strong enough to outlast the darkness and learn to love life again. If you don’t believe me now, make sure to come back in a year.
Katie C., University of Virginia
Connect With Us
To follow IfYoureReadingThis at UVA on Instagram, get in touch with our chapter, and learn about more resources available to University of Virginia students, visit our chapter’s homepage.
AUTHOR CONTACT
This author has opted to allow readers who resonate with their story to contact them. If you would like to speak to the author of this letter about their experience, please use the form below.