A year ago, today, I sat on the bed of my dorm room with my head in my hands, tears streaming down my face. I had just hung up the phone with my mom for the fourth time that day, and it was only noon. Four exhausting phone calls where my parents desperately tried to convince me to stay strong and keep pushing through the mental pain and exhaustion that was weighing me down every single day. I was checked out, both mentally and physically. I was on the brink of leaving behind everything I once loved to come back home to the comforting hugs of my mom and dad.
I was severely depressed.
I had somehow kept it together for the months of January through March, pushed through the ever-lingering depression and general anxiety that simply existed because I was away at school. I look back at it now and try to determine what triggered me to become so sad, so unmotivated. If I'm being completely honest, it was everything. School, work, my health, my friends, being away from home for so long... everything culminated into this awful depression that had me wanting to run away and never come back. It had come to the point where I was legitimately researching community colleges in my area and trying to figure out what I'd do with my life if I left Penn State for good.
I know we've all been there—threatened to drop out of school and never come back. Some joke about it, others do not. However, the one thing in life that should never be a joking matter is depression. I sometimes wonder that if I had the right people counseling me through my feelings and reminding me of my purpose that I would have never hit that dark point in April of last year. Yet somehow I got through it, and I look back at that time today and cannot imagine how such a happy girl could have been so miserable in a place she loves so much.
Simply said, it's because that girl never realized that it's okay to not be okay. It's okay to look at yourself in the mirror somedays and want to cry, just because. It's okay to have bad days, it's okay to want to be left alone sometimes. But, it is never not okay to let go. I was too afraid and too ashamed of my snowballing depression that I refused to get myself the help that I desperately needed.
The moment I arrived back home for the summer was when I finally realized that I was never going to find the joy in life again unless I talked to someone. I'm not ashamed anymore to admit that I saw a therapist who helped me push through the massive tornado of emotions that trapped me inside my daunting thoughts. It took time to work through each issue that had me so down on life, but eventually, I got to that place that for a while I never thought I'd see again. I could smile again without forcing it on my face just to please others. I could go out with friends willingly without having to throw myself out of bed because the motivation wasn't there. I could finally see myself returning back to school in August and actually enjoying myself.
The moment that I realized that it was okay to not be okay sometimes and that getting help was not something to be embarrassed about, was when I finally found my happiness again.
