A Letter for Barnaby

A letter I wrote for the potential future self.

Dear Barnaby,

This is a letter to you in case you stop taking the medication.

So far, you've been compliant and have been faithfully taking the medication.

However, a part of you feels like you are dull and uncreative.

You lack joy and direction in your life.

I am writing to hold your hand and tell you I love you.

I don't care what you have or haven't accomplished.

Your identity is validated by the things you do or don't do.

Massage therapy didn't work out for you.

No one cares if you completed the schooling or not.

If you felt in your gut that it wasn't right for you, move on.

No one cries over spilled milk.

Let these words be a warm embrace to your soul.

I am proud of you for what you are.

You are a man of character surrounded by many friends who love and care for you.

You are an antifragile person, bending and adapting to your environment.

You see what's wrong and feel compelled to change.

You decide and stick with it like you want to move to Florida.

Your actions will never disappoint me because you mean well and have good intentions.

I would say your depression is a weakness and a shortcoming, but it's not; it's something that has given you the ability to view life differently.

You are a different person with your mental illness, and that's okay.

You cannot change it, and it's a part of you.

We were created this way, given a fallen body to show the Creator's glory.

Even though I'm chemically unbalanced without my medication, I am balanced with medication, and for that, I am eternally grateful.

Barnaby, you are loved beyond compare.

Barnaby, you are worthy because you are alive.

Barnaby, you have suffered, and that's okay because that has made you the man you are.

Barnaby, you are not weak.

You have an incredible story to tell, and you are talented.

Even if you are forgotten, your words will live on in the time they have on the Internet.

Each tap of a letter forms a thought that transfixes the universe around you.

This letter is written for the unmedicated Barnaby.

We shall not forget who we are and why we exist.

We are committed to empowering individuals and restoring their well-being through our compassionate words and meaningful actions.

We are one, and we have only begun.

You feel like a surge of energy is flowing through you, and you must get it out.

I am here to remind you and validate your feelings and thoughts about reality.

You are okay.

Below is a general letter I found on the Internet that I felt would be conducive to this thought.

I wanted to remind you how far you've come. Life hasn't always been easy, yet here you are—still standing, striving, and hoping.

That resilience is extraordinary, even if you don't always see it.

There have been moments when the weight of everything felt too much, but somehow, you found the strength to keep going.

That wasn't by accident.

There's a purpose to your journey, even if it's not always clear in the moment.

Every challenge you've faced has shaped you, refining you in ways you might not fully understand yet.

Remember, you are not alone. God sees, knows, and walks with you through every trial.

As the Scripture says, "The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit" (Psalm 34:18). You don't have to have it all figured out today.

Trust that He is working everything together for your good, even when you can't see the whole picture.

You've been through storms that could have broken you; instead, they taught you how to navigate rough waters.

You've faced fears and doubts, but those moments strengthened your faith.

And even now, as you dream of what's next, remember that taking small steps is okay.

Progress doesn't always feel grand, but every step forward matters.

So, give yourself grace.

You don't have to be perfect; you must keep showing up.

Celebrate the small victories—courage, kindness, and growth moments.

They are worth more than you realize.

Your story isn't finished.

Chapters ahead are filled with new opportunities, restored hope, and deeper joy.

Lean into the promise of new mercies every morning, and remember to be kind to yourself.

You are capable of more than you know, loved beyond measure, and held securely by the One who calls you His own.

Keep going. The best is yet to come.

With hope and encouragement,

Me

P.S. Return to this letter when you feel down or are not yourself.