Have you ever written a letter to your former self? Stepping outside yourself to see your life from a different perspective, the 30,000 ft view perhaps, can help illuminate the path you took to get to where you are now, and shed light on the steps forward.
Consoling Your Past Self
Have you ever written a letter to your former self?
Stepping outside yourself to see your life from a different perspective, the 30,000 ft view perhaps, can help illuminate the path you took to get to where you are now, and shed light on the steps forward.
Through my experience in a recent writing cohort (shout out to the Foster crew), my coach suggested that, instead of simply revisiting the email that I wrote in 2010 to my friends when I literally walked out of my job – at the deepest depths of my depression and anxiety – that instead, I consider related writing a letter to my former self.
At the ripe age of 22 years old, I was paralyzed by anxiety-based depression. I was working a job that was both draining and totally incongruent with my personal values, dating a girl on-and-off that was a close friend from college, traveling non-stop, and trying to fill the deep void of depression and loneliness with nights of binge-drinking on the weekends.
Luckily, I had started going to therapy on my own accord, and even sought psychiatric treatment to help manage the symptoms that were infiltrating my work and daily life.
But I was still suffering greatly. I needed help. I needed someone not only to look after me, but to truly understand what I was going through.
Almost a decade and a half later, I truly understand what Mini-Bagel was going through. And I wrote him this letter.
The Letter
Mini-bagel,
What can I say, man?
It's been 15 years since you've graduated from college and holy shit has life taken some sharp dives, climbs, and turns.
Spring of Senior Year. 2008. I remember the feeling in the pit of my stomach, anxious about the decision of which job to take as I embarked on my professional career. How lucky I was to have so many viable choices.
The Reflection
As I was getting set to graduate from the University of Delaware, I recall that memorable and poignant conversation with my wise stepmom, where she noted:
Remember, this is your first job, not your last.
After a lot of deliberation — and having already accepted a job with the bank that I had interned for — I ultimately decided to take a different job with the public accounting firm in Philly, as opposed to staying in down-home Delaware. I was ready to live life in a big city, with a big-boy job and, so I thought, big-boy responsibilities.
Back in college, I wasn’t nerdy enough to be a CompSci major, nor was I savvy enough to be a business major. So I picked the in between: Information Systems.
I then went off to work having no idea how stressful, chaotic, and life-changing those next couple of years we're going to be.
Sure, I expected a demanding job that would challenge me in new ways to learn new skills as well as grow into my first full-time professional role.
But, looking back, while I had both technical and people skills, I really had no idea what I was doing taking this role.
I'm not even sure how I got that job as a business advisory (read: IT) services consultant.
I remember getting excited about traveling on the company dime, getting to go to cities I loved and maybe some new ones I’d yet to soak up.
But once I started to understand the rigor and emotional investment that it would take to actually deliver on these projects and perform my role – not only working 10-12, sometimes even 14 hour days, but essentially then being forced to attend dinners with my managers and people I really did not care to spend any extra time with let alone travel with… I started to feel a sense of immediate regret.
- Philly→Boston (every week for 6 months)
- Philly→Rochester (every week for 6 weeks)
- Philly→Chestertown, MD
- Philly→Elizabethtown, PA
- Philly→Florence, KY
And then, ultimately, being stationed in short term housing in Tyson's Corner in Northern Virginia, where everything finally just fell apart.
I remember sitting in on multiple “all hands’ meetings, hearing the familiar announcement: The project is going to be extended another [X] weeks.”
I remember that the day that they brought us into the cafeteria and told us we were going to need to work that weekend and I remember that partner, Greg, showing up before all of us bringing us coffee and breakfast, taking our lunch orders and thanking us multiple times that weekend for the work that we put in.
But ultimately none of it really helped my situation. I was a complete and utter mess.
I was suffering from depression — brought on by intense anxiety and near panic attacks — on almost a daily basis.
At this point, I was seeing a therapist (thankfully), and even started seeing a psychiatrist to get on the right medication to help manage the crippling anxiety.
Even still, I was suffering miserably.
I was stuck going into a job every single day that I hated. Sitting in a cubicle with the one employee from my regional office that I couldn't stand, hours away from my actual home in Philadelphia (where had barely spent a third of my time over the last few years despite paying rent). I just couldn't seem to figure out how to get myself out of this situation.
To make matters worse, I was dating a dear friend from college and was clearly, though unintentionally, mistreating her as I could barely take care of myself. The patience she had in supporting me through that tumultuous time was truly remarkable, but she deserved so much better.
And then, while I was in the thick of this big project in Northern Virginia trying to help a mortgage lending institution get out of the shitty situation that they put themselves in, the unthinkable happened…
A fraternity brother and good friend, Seth, died on November 4th, 2009.
I absolutely lost it.
On top of the paralyzing anxiety and deep depression I was experiencing nearly every day, I now had yet another layer of grief and despair to manage.
I immediately went to our acting manager to tell him that I had a friend pass away, left work and went straight over to Adam’s to soak in the sadness and commiserate with a friend who knew Seth just as well.
This was the second good friend that I had lost in just two years. Both at ripe ages of 22.
It felt like my entire world was falling apart.
And yet I still picked myself up a few days after Seth's passing to take the GRE. It felt like the only way to cope; by staying focused and committed to my goal to get out of this situation, go to grad school, and set a new path for myself.
The Response
Well, here I am. Three months away from my wedding. Sitting in my yard in Charlotte, North Carolina.
Living in a nice house, with an adorable dog, work flexibility, a loving partner, all while being engaged with work that mostly makes me feel fulfilled, connected, and excited.
It’s taken a long time to get here. I don’t know that I ever I could.
But when I look back at my life 13, 14, 15 years ago and see how far I've come, I feel a sense of pride. To examine where I've gotten myself from a combination of pure will, support from incredible friends and family, and of course a little bit of luck with a pinch of divine intervention — I realize how incredibly grateful I am.
Thanks to your sacrifice, Mini Bagel, I’m so much more grounded and fulfilled.
I'd like to think it started with the doctor, Noah, on the Amtrak quiet train car. That was my “lollipop moment” that changed the trajectory of my life.
On that ride back from Boston, a familiar one that I had done dozens of times at that point, this man struck up a conversation with me.
And he saw through my pain and encouraged me to read a book: The Four Agreements.
I read it front-to-back on the next train ride up to Boston the following week, and it was that book that inspired me to connect with my purpose and values and pursue a life that gave me meaning.
And I still haven't reached out to thank him…
Looking back at those first years out of college I want to say something to Mini Bagel:
Dude – you always had such a fiery passion for doing the right thing.
Consistently putting in your best effort, fostering invaluable connections, trying to see the best in people and things, and making the most of every adventure…
Whether it was six hours in a car to and from Rochester with another co worker who loves music and got you into Jane's Addiction and loved the Rangers…
…Or managers that were older and made fun of you for how you did or didn't communicate with clients, but then fed you lobster at night…
…The charity events you coordinated in the name of your best friend growing up and how you brought all these people together that loved him, supported him, or maybe didn't even know him, but we're down for the cause…
…You joined “sport and social” leagues to try to meet new people and bring the people together that you already knew to meet each other and do something fun…
You enjoyed life in your early 20s.
You lived on the outskirts and Philly — more precisely on the outskirts of Manayunk — and got to explore a whole new place.
You got to see that city in a whole new light after so much time there as a kid when your brother was sick.
You dealt with a tremendous amount of emotional turmoil as a child. Your brother having gone through almost 15 major surgeries, including two liver transplants.
You’ve always stood up for what was right.
You’ve supported your friends as they were beginning their careers or going back to school or pursuing whatever dreams they had in their lives.
You’ve fought so hard to find some stability and some happiness, yet you were also struggling — completely and utterly emotionally disturbed. And there was good reason for it.
Your parents fighting and separating when you were young, often feeling abandoned at times when your brother was in the hospital and you had to figure out how to make it on your own as a kid.
And so you constantly tried to replicate that family support structure that you didn't really have.
You finally found an older brother in Rob.
You two became fast friends when he moved to the “Old Neighborhood” when you were 11, when, according to him, you “took a bite out of his leg.” (He had a knack for embellishing 🤣)
He taught you so much. He created a spark in your life. He ignited passions in things that you knew you had but you didn't know how to express, like sports and video games and liking girls and getting philosophical…
…And the intricate nuances in people, creating these caricatures of the people in your lives…
…and seeing how funny the world could be and how easy it is to laugh at it…
And then Rob was abruptly taken away from you.
Dying of hyperthermia while kayaking in the cold December water in Little Egg Harbor, NJ.
Just like that. At 21 years old, you suddenly had to go on living your entire life wondering “what if”...
Your senior year of college, you experienced near-paralyzing sciatica because of a herniated disc that you've been dealing with for the better part of three years.
You had a lot of healing to do. And you were thrown right into the real world without a clue of how to act on it.
I'm proud of you, though.
You pushed through.
You found people to connect with, like Quinn, who you were able to commiserate with professionally. You shared your experiences of this terrible, anxiety-ridden work situation that you were thrust into unknowingly.
You got support from your other closest friends, like Joel and Ancona, as well as your family and your loving girlfriend at the time. You pushed through the hurt. You bared and grinned through the discomfort and angst and anger and frustration towards your job, and towards your life circumstances. You figured out how to pick yourself up and find a new path forward.
You're incredibly lucky that you met people like Darrell, a mentor since junior year of college who was able to redirect you towards a career in career counseling and the master's program that you ultimately applied for, got accepted to and began at Delaware in the fall of 2010.
From that point on, your life looked a lot different. You finally had a career that aligned with your values.
Your insatiable need to help others feel more connected, more aligned and show up more authentically. It all began with that simple conversation with Darrell who had some experience working in the Career Center at UD.
Once you had a goal and a vision for your life, you worked tirelessly to make progress towards that vision. Albeit exhausted at the end of those 12-hour workdays and dealing with the loss of two, young, close friends, you still managed to push through your grief and stress to take the GRE.
This required time and dedication to study, apply to grad schools, go on informational interviews, and set yourself up for success so that you could turn your life around.
I'm proud of you.
I know it wasn't easy.
But remember that grit, that determination, that resiliency was ingrained in you from the moment that you were five years old and your parents told you that your brother was very sick and was going to be in the hospital probably for a long time.
Don't ever forget who you are.
Don't ever forget where you came from.
Don't ever forget to appreciate how far you've come and all the help you’ve received.
But also, don’t forget you’ve created this life for yourself.
And it's perfectly reasonable and encouraged that you go and enjoy it now.
You’ll never be able to control every aspect of what happens in this world. Probably not even 10% of it.
But what you do with that 10% is everything.
How you treat people is everything.
The way that you see the world is everything.
Having gratitude is everything.
The Reprise
I feel incredibly lucky to have so many amazing people in my corner, throughout every stage of my life so far.
It is the thing that keeps me going in this life and I hope to never take those relationships for granted.
And it’s all thanks to you.
Love you, dude.
You deserve this.