A letter from December 10th, 2020

Dear FutureMe, If you're reading this it means I did it, I lived. H***** tried to get me to talk to the teacher that told me I look depressed. If anyone reading this doesn't know me, I'll give you the rundown. He was my favorite teacher, and I've been going through a lot of anxiety and depression recently. I was so proud of myself that I had gotten out of bed that morning and went to school. It was definitely one of my better days. In front of the ENTIRE class, he told me I looked depressed and a few people were laughing. That was the first period. But I kept my **** together all day, I kept a smile on my face, fake as it was. When I came home I fell apart. I know people have it worse than me, that's what everyone says, but that doesn't make it any easier to get out of bed during one of my more serious depressive episodes or make going through an anxiety attack any less terrifying. The worst part is I know I'm stuck in a hole with no way out. I can't talk to my parents about it. I'm too young to go to a therapist on my own, and most of my friends think it's funny. I feel like ending it but I can't do that to my friends, and as much as I hate my parents, I can't let them know it's their fault. I hope things are better for us now. I hope that you find someone to make you happy. I miss the old us but I'm proud of how much I've changed. I love most of my friends and I'm working on weeding out the toxicity in my life. Good luck in life, and if this isn't future me reading this, then I did end it. And if I did, I'm sorry, and I love you.