2025: An Open Letter

It’s always darkest just before the dawn. It’s a saying that encourages people to stay hopeful during the dark times. I got to be honest; there were moments in 2025 when I stopped believing this, when I gave up on hope, because every time I thought I couldn’t be in a darker place, I ended up in one, wondering how much worse it could get. And here, in my annual open letter – my tenth – it’s time to dig into these moments. But, to give a hopeful spoiler: when I look outside I think dawn has finally come. Because better times don’t care whether you believe in them or not.

‘What is beauty compared to grief? / What is joy in league with sorrow?’[1]

For me, 2025 was a paradoxical and transformative year. Like 2024, it was two-faced, with some of my absolute deepest, darkest moments I barely survived, and some of my life’s absolute highlights. I started the year celebrating Hogmanay (New Year’s Eve) in Glasgow with some lovely Weegies. I traveled abroad because I wanted to run away from everything; from my past, from my pain, from myself. We all have our limits, our moments we break down; I had reached my limits in 2024, and in 2025 I crossed them several times.

‘One sudden movement in a world of possibility / Only one movement to expose our fragility’[2]

2024 is a country and its borders were closed, yet I took plenty of unwanted baggage with me; the ones you’d rather lose, which I didn’t. I held onto it as if my life depended on it, and in a way it did, but the other way round; I fell to a point I wasn’t sure I could ever return from, buried alive by everything I never processed, everything I never let go of, everything I never healed from. Life was waking up and surviving until I could sleep again, because that was the only time I felt alright. I had fallen and not with any grace; no, it was ugly, it was dirty, I was crawling because I couldn’t get up anymore. And that’s when I realized I had to make the call.

‘You made me believe you were strong / I wish you had called me and told me that something was wrong’[3]

Some phone calls can be life-changing, some phone calls can be life-saving. 2025 is the year in which I – finally – started therapy. Because I should’ve done that years ago, because I finally started caring enough about myself to ask for professional help, because I didn’t know how I could continue without. I’m happy I finally made that call, but it’s sad to see that everything had become so dark I couldn’t see any other option anymore. That’s when I got diagnosed with recurrent depression, and I realized I’ve been battling this on and off since the age of 12.

‘Been this way so long / It feels like something’s off when I’m not depressed’[4]

There’s a thing about depression people who never experience it might find difficult to grasp; the scariest thing isn’t to stay in your darkness, but is trying to get out of it. Once darkness is a familiar hell, the unfamiliar heaven of happiness is scary and can feel like it’s undeserved. It kind of is a self-fulfilling prophecy. There’s always a thread trying to pull you back into the darkness, even when you’re just thinking about trying to get out of it. It creates life achievements most people will never see. During the first half of the year, some of my friends got engaged, bought their own homes or even got a kid; some amazing, wonderful, and well-deserved milestones for beautiful people who had survived their own struggles as well. My main achievement was making it through the day, surviving, without causing any further damage to whatever was left of me. I was happy for my friends, who all deserve the world, but it was confronting that I once again had to rebuild myself from scratch. It felt as if I was living in a completely different world.

‘I came up to find you today / ‘Cause I finally found all the words that I needed to say / But a dark thought got there first’[5]

It feels like I’ve got this happy personality carrying a sad soul. I can smile all day, I can laugh when I’m around people, but when at the end of the day I’m returning to an empty house where my happy self hasn’t shown up for months and I’m bawling my eyes out all night, then I know there’s something wrong. Even though I’m surrounded by love it feels like a lonely battle. And I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to be saved while I was drowning in a sea of love.

‘Why don’t you wanna survive? / Are you all out of hope? / I’m not saving a soul / I’m just saving a life’[6]

And this sea of love was my life, the things I did, the people around me. When someone asked me how I was doing, I answered that my life is amazing, but that I’m doing awful. I experienced life with this grey filter through which I could see all the amazing things, but I couldn’t feel it. This sea of love is what saved me; I didn’t want to throw away the life I had built, I didn’t want to pass on my pain to people who already carry their own.

‘Despite the overwhelming odds, tomorrow came’[7]

I had to take a bit of a break from acting – I barely had the energy to be myself, let alone act like someone else. Instead, I threw myself into writing; I continued writing my novel, I wrote short stories I haven’t shared yet, and I started writing and sharing poetry. Writing helped me deal with my emotions, helped me to understand them, helped me to express them. To use my blood and tears and mix it with ink to fuel my writings was therapeutical. Sharing my poetry was scary, but it changed my life. Not just in opportunities I’ve got, like my CreativeMornings talk and my window poem at CultureHub, but it helped me connect with myself and others. Over the years I’ve somehow surrounded myself with people who love me more than I’ve ever done, and who see my talents and potential more than I’ve been able to see. I owe them a lot, because thanks to them I’m able to see dawn again.

‘I’ve been taking some time to be distant / I’ve been taking some time to be still / I’ve been taking some time to be by myself / Since my therapist told me I’m ill / And I’ve been making some progress lately / And I’ve learnt some new coping skills’[8]

But there are still things I’ve got to come to terms with, because over the years I’ve realized that feeling good has never been a given, let alone that it’s come easy to me. And even though there will be times when I will feel and do better, there’s still this darkness lingering around, trying to get me at every chance it gets. And there’s also fear in that. I’ve got the fear that one day I will fall back into my own darkness, that I won’t be able to be the one to help me get through it, that others can do nothing else than watch me slip away once again. And I’ve got this fear I’ll never be able to be in a healthy romantic relationship, that I’m simply not made for something like that; a fear that will exist until proven wrong.

‘I’m fine and I’m finally clearer / To understand what it is to be nearer / And that love is just pain in reverse’[9]

I’ve realized there are many things I still got to learn. I still have to learn how to set healthy boundaries to protect myself, I still have to learn what my needs are and how to express them, I still have to learn how I can allow myself to just be and take up the space I deserve, rather than hiding myself and giving space to things that are hurting me. Realizing that I’ve never known or done these things is painful, but it’s a first step in a new direction.

‘I’m a life, I’m a world, I’m a rose, with the waste / Wake me up, let me live, let me breathe / Give me love, give me soul, give me guidance, give me peace’[10]

2024 gave me everything but took twice as much; 2025 was a year I survived, not because I wanted to, but because I had to. It was once again a year in which I had to say goodbye to an old version of me, a version that only existed for the sake of changing myself. Maybe the worst version of myself was only the worst because it never received the love it so desperately needed. And in hindsight I love myself for getting me through this.

‘You saved my life, make it all alright / When I don’t feel like talking / You make sure I always see the daylight’[11]

With everything that’s happened, my friends kind of lost one of their friends: me. Not in a(n almost) literal way, but because I wasn’t even a shadow of who I am. I was here yet not here, buried in my emotions, in my pain, in my past, in everything I held on to that had already gone. We all have a breaking point that eventually helps you evolve in your next version; and that’s the best way I can thank my friends and the people around me. So that’s my wish for you all in 2026; I promise I’ll take care of me for you, if you’ll promise to take care of you for me. And whenever you’re struggling, please reach out. You’re always loved more than you know. Even though sadness is an unwanted emotion for most, it’s also a beautiful one that gives people the possibility to cover it with a beacon of love.

Let 2026 feel like a beacon of love in a world that has so much going on.

Yours Truly,

Justin

[1] Poets of the Fall – Rebirth (Jealous Gods, 2014)

[2] Ren – For Joe / Suic*de (Sick Boi, 2023)

[3] James Blunt – Dark Thought (Who We Used to Be, 2023)

[4] NF – Happy (HOPE, 2023)

[5] James Blunt – Dark Thought (Who We Used to Be, 2023) – Acoustic version

[6] James Blunt – Saving a Life (Who We Used to Be, 2023)

[7] Rise Against – Tragedy + Time (The Black Market, 2014)

[8] Ren – Hi Ren (Non-album single, 2021)

[9] Snow Patrol – These Lies (The Forest Is the Path, 2024)