Letters to myself

I just wanted to write a short post about this realization I had a few days back that might maybe help someone else out there. A few months back, but still fairly recently, I started this tiny, rather infrequent habit of writing myself letters in difficult moments when I needed some support. I was suffering from depression and self-harm, and have been in recovery and feeling a lot better in the last few weeks and months. The idea to write myself letters during times of doubt, fear and hopelessness stemmed from my knowledge about journaling and arguing against negative thoughts. I tried combining the two, because a letter helped me structure my thoughts, it felt less silly to me than to speak out loud (a subjective feeling), and I could read it again later if I wanted to. Additionally, I could be radically honest in my letters, and write about things I couldn't mention to anyone else. My rule was that I would directly adress myself in these letters, and write to myself in the most understanding, compassionate, validating and supportive way I could. It didn't matter if it felt fake when I started writing, I would just continue until I started to feel better. I would channel the kindest inner voice I could find inside my head, even if it felt like a liar in that moment, and I would write to myself as I would to a friend or family member that I loved, honestly, but with as much love and patience as I could muster. Not a single negative, hurtful sentence would be allowed, even though most of my darkest moments were filled with self-hatred. I was surprised to find how easy it was to write these letters to myself, and how much of a calming effect they would have on me, and also how encouraging it was to read them even long after I had written them. I discovered an alternative voice inside myself that was much stronger and wiser than I could have thought. Don't get me wrong, I still remain an extremely self-critical person, and I am in no ways better than anyone else, but now I know that there is a different voice and that I can channel it if I want to.
Anyway, a few days ago, I read the letters again. And there was a new surprise: I suddenly saw not only the kindness, but the truth in the words I had written. A lot of the things in those letters have proven to be true in the past weeks, and it shocked me how my wiser, kinder self had been able to look into my future much more than my inner critic ever could, and that its words weren't only vague promises, but had actually come true. The times I had promised myself I would get through, I survived. The feelings I told myself would pass, passed. The things I told myself I could achieve, I did. I wrote to myself that things would be ok, and that people loved me, and they are, and they do. So all I can say is that when you feel like your greatest enemy, you might also be your strongest ally, if you give that ally a voice.