I remember thinking that coming to college would be the start of a “new me.” College is supposed to be the best 4 years of your life, which they can be for the majority of students, but for some it can be the hardest 4 years all because of one life consuming illness.
I remember being “diagnosed” with depression during my sophomore year of high school. I was going through a constant wave of feeling “numb” and so incredibly alone. I was told time after time that: “things will get better”, “you’re just going through a phase”, or the best one yet, “you’re 16 years old…what’s so hard in your life that could possibly make you depressed?” I swear those were things not only said by friends, but doctors as well. My depression hit me extremely hard my senior year of high school and left me completely broken. After hearing countless times that I’d grow out of my depression, I was in bit of a shock when things didn’t get much better when coming to college.
It’s kind of funny—you think of college being like an episode of Blue Mountain State: humorous, crazy, and oh so adventurous. You’re coming in from high school ready to write a new chapter of your life. You think of yourself as an adult, but living with a total random stranger in a cramped dorm room. You have this sort of confidence about you that there’s no way life can go downhill from here.
I remember starting my freshman year with a rush of anxiety. I had never left home before for this long. I kept telling myself that this feeling was normal and that you have to “leave the nest” at some point in your life. Weeks passed and the feeling of anxiety didn’t settle, but only got worse. Bad days started to turn into bad weeks and bad weeks started turning into bad months. I started missing classes, constantly calling my friends and family crying about how I felt so stressed and depressed still, and suddenly all the things that made me happy at one point no longer interested me. I found myself constantly locked away in my dorm room only coming out to eat when I absolutely needed to. I was watching myself destroy my own life and I had no clue how to stop it.
I let my depression take control of my life for a whole year of college. My freshman year was consumed by my mental illness that I felt I could not take control over. It wasn’t until returning in the fall of my sophomore year that I sought out help.
Today, I am able to do the things I used to love doing, have taken the time to rediscover myself and learned how to make myself happy. If it wasn’t for seeking out the help that I needed, I’m honestly not sure how I would be doing now almost two years later.
I honestly wish that I could tell you that it magically gets better once you get help. I’d be lying if I told you that, though. I still have rough patches and days where I’m not even sure if I can get out of bed. I’ve come to the understanding, though, that there are so many other students on campus who are feeling this exact way.
You are not alone. You are not just another statistic on a flyer in the campus bathroom stall saying to call for help if you feel a certain way. You are not just another face in the crowd. You are worth more than what you may think. You are worth so much more than what your depression is telling you.
Depression isn’t always lying in bed all day or continuous moping and crying. Depression doesn’t always look the same and effects each of it’s “victims” differently. You know yourself better than anyone else. If you feel like there is something wrong, please talk to someone. Take advantage of the counseling services here on campus. The counselors will be some of the best people you will ever meet. Spend time with your friends here at the university, get involved and take each day a step at a time. It may not always be easy, but the feeling of loving yourself and being genuinely happy can make the roughest days 100% better. There are truly so many beautiful reasons to be happy and being alive is one of them.