Prevention Month

Hey there bloggers,

It’s come to my attention, as I went through the missed emails in my school account today, that September is Suicide Prevention Month. I wish I had known sooner, considering it’s the last week of the month, but it’s ok I won’t beat myself up about it. With this bit of information in mind- I thought it was time to make another long-awaited blog post, specifically talking about something near and dear to my heart. As you all know I’m a college student who’s had my fair share of mental health struggles (haven’t we all). I haven’t really talked about my personal experiences on here yet, but I think (considering its National Suicide Prevention Month) that it’s time we had that talk- what a way to start I know. 

In June of 2022 I was diagnosed with severe depression and social anxiety. At the time it honestly felt like a major relief- I finally had a name to the thing that was causing me so much pain. However, that wasn’t the end of my journey (and it’s still not over really). I wanted to do something, anything, that might help- so I tried medication. I thought that would fix everything, that starting my meds would magically make all the dark clouds that were hanging over me go away. I graduated high school, worked at a summer camp as the waterfront director, and started college. Sounds great right? I feel like it should have been, but it wasn’t even close to a piece of cake. No, my freshman year of college was probably one of the hardest times I had to get through. I moved across my home state (five hours from where I grew up), and plunged into what I was told was going to be ‘the best years of my life’-

Holy SHIT was it not that! 

There were definitely a lot of ups, but there were many many downs. One might have called me a bit of a pessimist, but I was depressed. The first year of college is already really hard, considering it’s a transition period- the first time you really get the chance to spread your wings. It’s really hard to want to go out and have those experiences when everything in your life is so big and heavy, to the point where you can’t get out of your bed. I was struggling- my parents knew I was struggling, my roommate knew it, my sisters knew- but I wasn’t doing anything to better myself. The thing about depression that’s hard, is that you lose all your motivation. I couldn’t motivate myself to call my doctor to figure out my meds, I couldn’t find it in myself to even call the on-campus counseling center, it all felt like too much. Classes and workload took it all out of me, and surprisingly my grades didn’t drop- but my spirits did. 

I wanted to give up so badly last year, I hit a breaking point around November/ December, and my parents came and visited me to make sure I was ok. All I wanted to do was sleep, I wanted to go home and curl up into a ball and never do anything ever again. I was so done with it all. Eventually, Gab (my best friend/roommate) had to look at me and tell me that I needed to go get help. I did, but it was very on and off. The following spring semester wasn’t a whole lot better, but I tried my best to take accountability for therapy (most of the time, maybe-), and I was able to change my meds to suit my needs better. In the end I met some new friends and got out of my dorm more. Yeah, I still missed classes and had some episodes, but I was doing better- because I started taking some of those steps- baby steps, but steps nonetheless. 

This summer was hard, but I got through it. It was hard for different reasons, family stuff and all, but I got through it one way or another. Now I’m back at school (spoiler alert- I didn’t drop out like I wanted to last year LOL), and I’m enjoying myself thoroughly! Classes are better, workload is always difficult (but manageable), and I’ve started to surround myself with people that make me happy. I joined a gardening club and have started to become a lot more active in my hall (our dorms hall council) where I’m one of the ‘diversity and inclusion’ people. Overall, I would say I’m in a much better place than I was a year ago- considering it was about this time last year that I really fell off and into that depression hole. I cut a lot of people off at that time, and everything took it out of me- even the smallest things like brushing my teeth became a rarity (surprisingly no cavities!?)-

Overall, reading a lot of this back it doesn’t sound as bad as it was, but I’m not about to start invalidating my own experiences/emotions. So, I guess what I’m trying to say is it’s different for everyone. Sometimes it seems too big to step out of that mindset, to put the efforts into getting better, but it is worth it- I swear. 

I’m not writing any of this to make people worry, I’m truly much better now, I’m writing this to let people know that they’re not alone. Mental health is truly a hard thing to navigate, especially alone. If it weren’t for the people I love, and that love me back, I wouldn’t be here today writing this blog. I’m sure of that. I know what it’s like for the world to feel like too much, I know what it’s like to want to give up- but I also know what it’s like to stay anyway. To stay here even when it felt like I couldn’t stay anymore. 

So, in honor of Suicide Prevention Month, just know you’re not alone. I know, I know it sounds cliche and cheesy- but like I’ve said before, cliches are cliche for a reason. Life is fucking hard, I’ve been there done that, but it can also be fucking beautiful. So- stay here for you, stay here for those goddamn fucking beautiful ass moments. For the laughs, for the cries, for the hugs, for the love, for the ‘whatever you can think ofs’. 

Sure, I’m going to have my bad days, and the self-work is freakin’ hard, but at the end of the day--

I’m here still, and to that I’m forever grateful. 

Much Love, 

- Lee <3