Trigger Warning!
I often feel like an imposter regarding my mental health because I did not have one particularly traumatizing event that could warrant these feelings. My childhood was filled with love and parents trying their best to provide for me. I had decent friends, hobbies and sports throughout my life. Yet, in my mind, this little voice tells me I am a burden and not worthy of anything I do. If I had a dollar for every time I ruined something because I felt sad or insecure, I would not have to work a day in my life. During my high school years, my mental battle had reached its peak. I never showed up anywhere and barely had any will to eat. I would lay in my room in darkness. I would eventually have a few attempts to end it all by trying to end my life. My wrists will serve as a reminder of my dark thoughts.
As a college student, I have found it increasingly hard to juggle my mental health and other responsibilities. Some months are okay. I generally feel pleasant and comfortable in my skin. Then BAM! Out of nowhere, the monster will reappear, wreaking absolute havoc on my mind. She will make me believe that I need to isolate myself to avoid burdening people and make me feel exhausted. Yet I can’t sleep and simple tasks feel like climbing Mount Everest. She will convince me that I am undesirable and disgusting. The smaller I start to feel, the larger the monster grows. It’s like I am literally feeding it.
These phases can last from days to weeks to even, unfortunately, months. Events and responsibilities will not wait for me to get out of this funk, so it is up to me to climb Mount Everest. Depression does not make a complimenting outfit: she will tell me my body looks awful. She will make me stare at the mirror, tearing up before the semi-formal dance because of how I look in the dress. It will make teaching class so tricky that I must beg myself to get ready.
She will convince me that none of my friends like me, or anyone for that matter. She will make me feel so alone. Then when I am feeling low enough, my anxiety will come to tell me that what I said during the event was stupid or that I am inherently unlikable. It will remind me that the boy I am interested in would never like me because of my looks. If not that, then it’s my awkward personality. The duo will team up to remind me my friends do not like me or how much I burden my family. It is quite literally the double homicide sound from TikTok.
During these low phases, I want to give up, waive the flag and call defeat. Yet, when I stare at my wrist, it reminds me that I am strong and overcame these feelings before. While it feels like forever at the moment, in reality, it does not last forever. There is a light at the end of the tunnel. Forcing myself to open up to my journal or therapist allows me to lift a weight off my shoulders. Creating a loving and gentle environment is so important to me during these times. Reminding myself to be gentle is vital because no one is perfect. Forcing myself to open up, whether it be to my friend, journal or therapist has helped alleviate the pain caused by these battles. Sometimes just sitting in the company of my roommate helps me. This helps even if we are not talking about my feelings or if she knows. Having someone to watch a show with helps me feel less isolated. These battles do not need to be fought alone or in complete isolation.
To anyone who feels like I do, this reminds you that you are not alone. You are loved and worthy of happiness.
If you or someone you know is struggling with suicidal thoughts or feelings, call, text or chat with the National Suicide and Crisis Prevention Lifeline at 988.
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