A Letter To a Former MeMature

A letter to a former me.

Dear 11 year old Dylan, my younger more naiive self.

Recently I was inspired to write this. A letter to you from the future. Just a little something to give you a heads up of the good and bad, and there is plenty of both, so take a deep breath, roll your eyes towards heaven, and then read the rest of this confession.

At age twelve you will start secondary school, this will be the first step on a seemingly safe path.

At age thirteen something happens for the first time, guys will be attractive. Now I know, your reading this thinking what? Well thats the truth, girls will still be attractive, but now they are on the same level as guys.

At age fourteen you will start to question yourself, your belief and where you can go in life. You will take another step towards a dark, dark road.

At age fifteen you will begin to spiral down.  You will, for the first time, hurt yourself. And you will do it again, and again. You will start to see things that are not there, this is a result of the stress and pain you are enduring.

At age sixteen you will feel like you are lost in a room with no lights and no escape. You will try, and fail, to end your life. As you cower out of it and cry until dawn. This depression will continue and you will feel infinitly lost.

During that year two friends will support you more then any other. They will go through tough times with you, and a second attempt, but will help you when needed, and sympathise when that is the only thing that is demanded.

At age seventeen you begin to see the light, the darkness retreats ever so slightly. It is still an over hangng shadow, but you get some hope.

After that I am afraid I cannot tell you anymore. I can do no more then warn you of the darkness that will engulf you, but now I can see the exit. I have hope, I am no longer entirely lost. I have found a resonably safe path, and in a few years, you will to be walking on this path.

With all my love, and all the support I can muster,

Dylan, age 18, nearly.

The End

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