No, everything is NOT OK...Congrats, I'm like everyone else

Years ago, I was no good at emotions. I felt feelings, and kept them bottled up. When I was sad, hurt, upset, it manifested into depression. Mostly mental, seeping into my self-esteem, but also physical. It was so bad that I'd taught myself to suppress positive emotion. Rejoicing in a new hairstyle or an A on an exam was hard to do, because a bigger part of me was convinced that doing so wasn't worth it. My brain was telling me "fuck your happiness. You're still going to be sad about all of these other issues. Sit down."

I was in a dining hall eating alone and I could barely keep it together. I tried to study over pasta, read while snacking on a brownie, and eventually gave up. I walked to a pay phone (I don't remember why my cell phone wasn't working) to call my mom, who I never thought could understand, but in retrospect, I'd never allowed her to understand. She picked up and I instantly sob and wail. She said, "Is everything OK?"

The reality I'd suppressed was that no, everything wasn't OK. In fact, it was awful, nothing was right, and that fixing it was bigger than anything I could do. Saying I "was fine" over the years changed from a state of satisfactory to being thin, weak, light, unstable, flimsy.

I don't remember how my mother responded, or how the phone call ended (except that I had to keep finding change) but it was the beginning of a turning point.

Luckily, I sucked at suicidal follow-through (I learned this before I got to college), and even luckily-ier (I know, not a word) I started to realize my emotions and allow myself to express them, in healthy and unhealthy ways. I had to get the hurt, anger, sadness and frustration off the paper and out of my head. Often I couldn't focus on school or work, two things I really liked. I must have worn the telltale signs of college depression as my RA recommended help (2 years later, I pay it forward by doing the same for my resident). I sought it, and what do you know? Help helped.

I'm not sure why I'm telling this story, but it'll definitely make it into my memoirs. I remember this version of me and know I'm not the only one who's been down this (or similar) roads. I think the biggest reason I'm able to tell this story is because I'm like everyone else. I don't mean that everyone has been (or will be) where I am, but I do mean that my struggles are not unique, and neither are yours. So be not afraid to explore then, own them, and flaunt them, but recognize that others have been there and done that. Fear, the fear of owning those feelings, can be paralyzing, but it doesn't have to. It's a choice, a huge choice, one in self-accountability, and probably one of the better choices I've made in life, because its opened doors to the luxury bigger and better choices.

Go ahead, afford yourself the same luxuries. You (and I) deserve it.
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