Dear 15 year old self:

First and foremost, enjoy the next 10 years of your life. You don't know this yet, but you'll have at least 2 panic attacks a year (12, by the time you reach your 20s), and after each so-called existential crisis you'll re-evaluate your life and take some drastic steps to change whatever it is that you think is so very, very wrong. It'll make you sleep better at night, but know that you're just going to return to your old ways in about 2 weeks' time. And that's fine too, because that's who you are and that's what makes you so interesting and dark and pensive. Having said that, dark and pensive are not bad things. Fuck knows, there are more than enough cheerful, rose-tinted spectacled 15 year olds out there to compensate for your moody demeanour. Just get rid of those cheerful tongue-in-cheek messaged t-shirts now, it's very unbecoming of you. Stick to wearing black and grey instead.

Let's see, what else? Oh, right, when the career guidance woman visits your school, do not take her advice. You won't believe me when I tell you this now, but there are more than 3 career options in this world. Yes, becoming a doctor or a lawyer or an accountant will pay the bills one day, but what do you know about bills anyway? Your are 15 years old, you have no clue. Having said that, you shouldn't feel too bad, you'll probably never fully comprehend the whole paying bills and working with money thing. Ever. I know.

Don't drink mass quantities of tequila. You have no idea how to hold your liquor. Like paying bills, you probably never will.

Try to attend a few more classes when you're in varsity. At least more than 2 a month. I know this field of study is so far removed from what you'll be doing full time one day, but imagine what a heinous and delibitating suckfest it must be for your parents to pay for your three year full-time party, part-time study phase. Pay them back by going to visit them as often as possible, answering their phone calls and not swiping the credit card until the strip is so damaged it has to be put through manually. They'll love you for that.

One day, in the not so distant future, you will be bored because you're sitting at home because you are too lazy to go to class and you are going to buy yourself a box of cigarettes. Big mistake. Huge mistake. You have never been good at moderation. Before you know it, you'll give a 50 year old chain smoker a asthma-ridden run for his money. And then one day you'll decide to quit because of a) the ridiculous smoking law relegating you to the slum corners of restaurants and b) the excessive amounts of money you'll be forking out on eye creams and chewing gum. Do. Not. Light. That. Stupid. Cigarette. Full stop.

Push yourself. Break that awful habit of immediately giving up on things that you're not instantly and naturally good at. In order to be prolific, you need to constantly be doing stuff, aka working. Do not get caught up in what becomes an all too familiar catch 22 - when you get to those in-between job phases, create jobs for yourself. Stop feeling worthless. It will be easier said than done, but listen to Malcolm Gladwell and put in those 10 000 hours.

Not every weekend is a party. Sometimes, but ONLY sometimes, it's okay to not be okay. Lock the door, sleep all day, switch off your phone and contemplate the thought of deleting yourself off Facebook slash the face of the earth all together. Don't feel bad about feeling bad. Also, keep in mind that this is just one of those panic attacks I spoke about at the beginning of this letter. And as for Facebook, well, that's just going to fuck with your productivity, I can't even give you any advice on that matter. You'll know what I mean in about six years' time.

Lastly, 15 year old self, you need to know this: you are responsible for your own happiness and the things you think are earth shatteringly important, usually aren't.

Take life a little easier, you are the only one out to get you. Nothing or no one else is. So, breathe.

Love

Your soon-to-be 25 year old self