C.M.

During so much of my life, beginning sophomore year of high school, I felt like I was sleepwalking. It started when a beloved student at my high school took his own life with no warning signs beforehand. When I heard the news announced at school the morning after it happened, I felt absolutely nothing - no sadness, confusion, anger, or any other “normal” emotion that one would feel when losing a friend. I was completely numb, and this experience would set the tone for the next 6 years of my life.

I realized I was depressed about 3 months after that incident. I isolated myself and didn’t want to hang out with my friends, see my family, go to school, or even go to volleyball practice (which I usually loved). I would break down crying constantly and lash out at my poor, undeserving parents who already had enough on their plate that adding a mentally-ill daughter to the list was the last thing I wanted to do. So instead I decided to bottle it up and let it eat away at my inner life. I constantly thought about suicide but thankfully never acted on it, though I got close. Everything about life was dulled down by this new lens of depression, and I found myself without any energy or motivation to do all the things that used to excite me and bring me joy.

I carried this feeling into college, but now alcohol and bad decisions were added to the mix. I was vulnerable and looking for some sort of relief, and unfortunately someone who I thought of as a friend in the dorms took advantage of that. During winter quarter of my freshmen year, I was sexually assaulted by a guy who was one of my closest friends at the time. I didn’t realize until a year later that it was actually assault, since I thought that it was my fault that I was even in that vulnerable state. I was drunk and decided to take a nap before going out with my friends so I went to my dorm room and climbed into bed. After presumably falling asleep, I awoke to someone in my bed with me, touching me and taking advantage of me. I am so lucky that I was aware enough to get up and run out of the room, but it left me feeling dirty and guilty. This had lasting impacts on my mental health because I began to have panic attacks every time I saw him anywhere on campus. I had a breakdown one night in the library while trying to study for an important midterm because I saw him from across the hall, and I couldn’t focus for the rest of the night. 

After this happened multiple times, I realized that this was a persistent issue that wouldn’t just go away if I ignored it long enough. I began to feel anxious 24/7 and became afraid of socializing and spending time with people. This carried into my junior year of college and became much more amplified when I had to start giving presentations in class. I couldn’t sleep the days leading up to a presentation or test and felt like I was going to die when I had to face these things. I took my stress out on my roommates, friends, and parents and all my relationships began to suffer immensely because of this. 

I became so exhausted from living this way and started to seriously think about starting to go to therapy. It took my a few months to find someone I really liked but once I did, it made a world of difference in my life. She told me that therapy rarely “cures” mental illnesses upfront, but that it gives us the tools to be able to handle and cope with how our minds lie to us. I began to take medication as well to help stabilize me and allow the therapy to be more effective, and I slowly began to feel “normal” again. The fog lifted and I felt like I could experience true emotion and connection with the people in my life. I had a renewed love of the outdoors, art, music, and connecting with other people again. It was so refreshing to feel like my old self and to be able to love others so much better than I did before. My relationship with my parents became so much healthier and I learned how to have compassion and patience for them.

If I had to take away one thing from this experience, here’s what it would be: We can’t make it through life without the help of others, no matter how much we think we can handle it on our own. I never wanted to admit that I needed help and didn’t want to let anyone else into my “mess” but I think the only reason that I am okay right now is because I leaned on others for support when I needed it the most. I’ve found that being vocal about my own struggles has opened up a space for sweet conversations with others who have experienced the same thing or something similar. When I feel like I don’t want to open up to others about my experiences, I have to remind myself that beautiful things come from bold vulnerability. This truth has evidenced itself in my own life countless times. 

It’s so cool to look back on these past few years and see all the times that God showed up, even in the smallest ways. He transformed my perspective of hardship and made me see all the ways that I grew from these experiences. I am so thankful for what He has done in my life and for all the people that were strategically placed in my path to help me when I needed it the most. I feel like I have regained my life back again and can live in the fullness of how God intended this life to be.