To the One Who Thought She’d Never Make It

Over the past year, I have walked through a darkness I once believed I would never find my way out of.
This letter is written to myself — the version of me who was still lost in the thick of it — and to anyone who may be standing in their own storm right now.
I’m not writing this from a textbook, not quoting research papers or AI; this is real, lived experience.
If you find yourself reading this and recognising parts of yourself, please know: you are not alone.
We exist, in many, many numbers — and our stars were never meant to stay hidden beneath the clouds.

Dear Me,

We are closing in on almost one year since your last big breakdown and latest trauma.
You’re not who you were anymore. The trauma stacking changed you in a way that you will think is impossible to heal from, and I know how much it hurts right now and to be truthful, It’s going to get harder before it gets easier.

You’re going to find yourself in A&E multiple nights, looking for somewhere safe. You’re going to sit there feeling lost in a system, looking for an answer that doesn’t seem to exist.
You’re going to find yourself missing ‘your old depression’ because this is just going to feel like too much to handle. You’re going to look at those you love, feeling nothing but despair and guilt, wishing you could just disappear to end their sufferings too.

You’re going to go from one medication to six, from no therapy at all to multiple times a week, and you’re going to get a heavy diagnosis of EUPD.
You’re going to want, with everything in you, to work, to turn back to normalcy, but you’re going to be unable to do so — and you’re just going to have to sit in the dark hole for a while.

You’re not going to be able to shower or take your son to school.
You’re not going to be able to cook — or worst of all, not laugh — for the next six months.
You’re going to avoid everything with a reflection because your mum had to hack off your matted hair with a kitchen knife.
You’re going to feel so disconnected from yourself that you’re going to want to change everything, from your home to your name.

But —

One day, you’re going to get the help you need.
The system is broken and it needs time, which is inexcusable for many people for many valid reasons, but — it’s going to work for you. Keep the hope.

You’re going to have comfortable nights in bed at home, sleeping in a house full of people you love, safe.
Hospital walls will be replaced with your newly decorated living room walls covered in photos of happy memories.

You’re still healing, so you often still miss the familiarity of your ‘old depression’ — but you also don’t want to go back to that place anymore. It’s bittersweet, but you’re growing to love the new you so much that the majority of the time, you prefer her to the old you — even if this version of you still feels like a stranger at times.

You’ll fall in love with your loved ones all over again and see hope, joy, safety in them — and they will reciprocate that. They will sit down with you and tell you how proud they are of you, with love radiating from them.

Your new medications are going to work well for you with very little side effects.
But the real life-changer is going to be the right therapy, the right therapist.
You’re going to find yourself consciously using skills you used to laugh at and disregard — and they’re going to keep you safe, keep you alive, and keep you stable in your wise mind.

You’re going to be validated in a whole new way with a group full of amazing individuals with EUPD and find a new peace.

You’re going to get a great new job, in time, and enter with better professional and personal boundaries as a stronger woman — and this will reflect in your work.
You will nurture as if you wanted, needed to be nurtured yourself — and you will heal in this way, too.

You’re going to love your showers now and find peace in singing under the falling water droplets.
You’re going to play games on the school run with your son, and you’re going to laugh again — I promise.

You’re going to take pictures of yourself again and feel comfortable in your skin, in a way you never have before.
You’re going to appreciate everything about yourself — physical and mental.
You’re going to rock the short hairstyle, and you’re going to rock the new Yas.
You’re going to take pride in her. Her home, her name, her…