Letters to Myself, Part II

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Writing Letters

I have a history of mental illness in my family. I consider myself fortunate that it only gave me depression when I was thirteen (the year of dealing with compulsory shit, apparently). However, it’s left a permanent squatter inside my head. A voice that I’m sure many of you are (sadly) familiar with.

One day while I was staring at a blank page and the voice in my head seemed incredibly loud, I found myself writing. Anything to drown it out. Anything.

This series has helped me a little. So I thought I might share it.

Just in case it helps you too.

Just before we start, I thought I’d share a funny trick on how to time travel. Write to yourself, and then read the letter over six months later and be immediately transported back to a moment in time you had completely forgotten. Wow. It’s like watching myself from the other side of a mirror.

Goddamn, I can be such an idiot.

[Spoiler alert] I completed the half marathon. And so can you, whatever your goal is.

22 September 2015

Dear Lee,

Just put one foot in front of the other.

Step. By. Goddamn. Step.

I don’t know why you’ve suddenly decided it’s a good idea to train for a half-marathon with only three weeks to go. In fact, it’s downright irresponsible and stupid and it would be extremely embarrassing to rock up at work having injured yourself again because you decided that getting up at ass o’clock in the morning and groaning your way over 21.1k was a good idea. Like the last time. You know – only a few months ago?


Since you’re going for it, please try to stick with it. Remember when you wake up that this is what you chose to do to yourself. Own the pain: don’t run away from it, because at the end of the day you can’t bloody run away from yourself. And use that stubbornness to hack away at the rest of your life. One word. After another. One story. After another.

Step. By. Goddamn. Step.



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