The Illness is Not Me, and it is Not You Either

I’ve never really liked the rain, it makes me feel cold and sick. What is always worse is when you get stuck in the pouring rain, the thunder is loud, and you are without an umbrella. That’s how my brain feels, everything is loud, cold, raining, and there’s nothing that I can do about it. At least that’s what I thought.

I’ve always known that I wasn’t happy. I grew up with an addict and alcoholic of a father, who was verbally and physically abusive. He would threaten to hurt if we ever got in the way of anything he depended on. Yet, we were demanded to look like the perfect family because we lived in a town of only 300 and everyone would know if there was a crack in the portrait.

When my mother left him, that’s when things really started to go downhill. My biological father turned what used to be the vegetable and fruit drawers to his beer drawers, there was liquor in his coffee mugs in the morning, and the kids at school would tell me about how he was getting in bar fights over the weekend. I was only ten.

When I was sexually assaulted for the first time at 13, it was on a school bus full of kids and nobody helped me. Rather instead, I heard the laughs and I saw their smiles. These laughs still haunt me to this day. It took me over a year to tell someone and over three years to finally tell my mother.

I didn’t tell anyone how I was feeling, I was stuck in this dark rainstorm wanting to die, only holding on because I didn’t want to hurt my mom. I wouldn’t hug others, my personal relationships suffered, and I was a hollow body.

I was sexually assaulted again in high school, I still hear his telling me not to ever say anything but that I liked it. I was a “good girl”. My first year of college my boyfriend of only a couple weeks raped me, again called the good girl.

I became a shell again, my grades plummeted and I struggled with all of my personal relationships. My relationship with my mother deteriorated. My old insomnia came back, as did my anorexia, panic attacks, and another suicide attempt.

It wasn’t until I was taken off of my old medication that my first real feeling of recovery came to me, a combination of merely just clouding up my thoughts in the midst of the storm. I was switched to a different anti-depressant and sleep aid while going cold turkey from what I had been on.

The medication switch when it finally hit me was not the only thing that saved me. The new medication served as an umbrella for me to hold in a way. The love and support that I could finally feel once covered from a freezing rain of PTSD memories I couldn’t control warmed me from the cold I felt inside.  The words of encouragement gave me the strength to keep walking.

Sexual assault, rape, depression, panic disorder, PTSD, and mental health illness can happen to anyone. It effects Frogs around you and you may not know it because it’s not something on the outside, it’s on the in. Those who are struggling lose many friends to the fact that others just don’t understand or don’t want to be friends with someone with these kinds of issues.

But if you take anything away from what I have written, it’s that you are not alone and you are not defective. I have spent too many days in my young life thinking that there is something wrong with me. I have an illness, but the illness is not me and it’s not you either. The Counseling Center has inside and outside resources for help. Here’s to recovery, love and support, and go Frogs.

Admitting is the First Step

I used to be a happy guy. I was full of energy and enthusiasm. I loved to crack jokes and meet new people and be on the center stage. Depression changed me. I am just not the same person I used to be two years ago. I am not depressed anymore. However, I now realize the warning signs for depression not just for myself but also for other people. I understand the hopelessness and despair when you are depressed. I also understand the struggles people have in their attempt to reach out. If there is anyone out there that feels like nobody understands your situation and cannot help you, you might be surprised by the number of people that understand EXACTLY what you are going through.

For me, depression came with stress. Stress from school, work, friends, financial situations, health, and etc. Next thing I know, I was speaking less and became hostile towards people. If I was lively before, I started to refrain from interactions with people in general, even my best friends. When people reached out to see what was going on, I just gave them an excuse like “I’m just tired.” As the weeks went on, I became more and more reclusive. I started to realize that I wasn’t just stressed out because of my surroundings. I was FREAKING depressed.

I’m actually fortunate that one of my friends actually intervened and put back some sense into my head. He was the one that told me that I was depressed and that it is in my interest to share what was causing it. I told him the truth, and that alone helped me a lot. Instead of beating myself in my mind constantly, sharing it helped me realize that I am not alone in this fight. I realized that my friend also went through a similar phase and shared how he overcame depression. He told me about the resources available just within TCU and there are many more available in the community. He encouraged me to share my situation with my family and friends knowing that they will help me get through my situation. And I did. It didn’t solve the problem immediately. But with time and effort, I was able to get out of my depression.

I honestly didn’t want to admit it. I always thought I had a stress-free mentality. I thought depression was only for those who were weak mentally (I don’t even know what this means anymore). I was always able to see the positives in situations. During my depression, I simply could not. I held back from letting my friends know about my depression for a very long time because 1) I didn’t want to admit that I was depressed 2) I didn’t think that anybody would understand my situation and 3) I didn’t want to burden my friends with my depression. Looking back, I was pretty dumb.

People cannot understand you if you choose not to share. You may feel like you can’t share your story because nobody will understand. But I challenge you to take the first step and just share. One person may not be enough to overcome your situation. And that is why you need to utilize all of the resources that are available to you, and there might be more than you think. TCU has great resources, this blog and others that are similar are great resources, and even your friends that you think are inexperienced might be able to help you in a more profound way than you realize (my friend mentioned is two years younger than I am). There are many people in your life that are willing to help you. You just need to realize that. It took me a while, but I hope you don’t make the same mistake.

It's OK to Not Be OK

Dealing with grief is something that is difficult to understand until you're the one going through it. Even then, it's difficult to put your finger on how exactly you got through it and continue to get through it. After losing two people very close to me over the past year, the only way I can specifically identify that consistently helped me deal with my grief is my faith.

I had a difficult time admitting to myself that it was okay to grieve. After I lost my second friend, I could see my close family and friends worrying about me and just waiting for me to lose my mind. I felt like it was my responsibility to show them that I was okay. I felt like I was constantly in between wanting to deal with it in a healthy way and wanting to prove that I was unaffected by it. For some reason, openly grieving made me feel like I was feeling sorry for myself and ungrateful for the support that everyone was giving me. Things were constantly up and down, and I couldn't pinpoint what I needed or wanted. The only thing I found consistently helpful was relying on my relationship with Christ. I started reading a devotional and making time to spend talking to God about what was on my heart. I allowed myself to leave class or quickly step out of meetings to read a quick verse and have a moment with God if I felt like I really needed it. These times were the only times when I didn't feel like I had to have my feelings all figured out. In no way did I perfectly present myself to others (I'm sure it was apparent that I was grieving), but I never felt like I could relax or just be upset with no explanation or disclaimer. Strengthening my relationship with God allowed me to be thankful for my circumstances and provided me with more strength than I believe I could have had on my own. It helped me to feel okay with the fact that things were so out of control and to trust that good things would come from these tragedies. This made it easier to deal with the pressure I put on myself to have it together in front of others.

Relying on my faith was the most important thing that I did to grieve in a healthy way. The second most important thing was to take time to myself and allow myself to just be sad. I waited until winter break to do this (three months after my second friend had passed away), but if I was going to do it again, I would have taken time for this sooner. I used time during winter break to do nothing but focus on myself. This was difficult because I was already tired of being sad. However, it was helpful for me to get that out of my system, rather than only partially dealing with it.

Anyways, if I had to give advice for grieving the loss of someone very close to you, I would say two things:

First, do not try to rely solely on yourself. Whether you rely on your faith or your friends and family, accept the situation for what it is and take advantage of the support you have available to you. Second, make time to care for yourself. Don't feel like you have to be okay all the time or everyone around you will be disappointed. It is okay to not be okay for a little bit, and the people in your life will understand and support you.

But why can't you just be happy?

“But why can’t you just be happy?” This is the question that is more frustrating than any other that gets asked of those who are battling depression. Surely it isn’t THAT hard to be happy is it? For anyone who has ever dealt with depression and mental health problems, being happy is an uphill journey that is fraught with desolation, pain, tears, and overwhelming feelings. It is a journey that requires courage and perseverance, but also a large amount of patience and understanding for your self and others around you.

I remember the day that I finally admitted to myself that I needed help; that what I was going through was not something I could handle alone. Allowing myself to admit that was one of the hardest things I have ever done, and it was my first step of many in my fight to be happy again. The first time I went to the mental health center, I cried the whole way there, the entire first session I had with the counselor, and the whole walk back to my dorm. I felt embarrassed, unsure of myself, and slightly derisive of the experience I had just had. I don’t need therapy. I’m sure I can just get over this eventually. Only crazy people have therapists, and I’m not crazy. These were some of the thoughts that bounced around in my head as I recalled my therapy session. Surely people will think I belong in the mental ward if I tell them I go to therapy, won’t they? However, I decided to give this whole process a chance and began to see a psychiatrist once a week.

All of the sudden, I began to think about mental health in a different way. What is so bad about going to therapy? I get to talk about everything that has been bothering me in my life for an hour to a compassionate counselor FOR FREE. I leave every session feeling refreshed and lightened, knowing that someone else has helped me unburden my problems. I began to reach out to my friends and family for support and found an army of people cheering me on while I fought my way towards my goal of happiness. It was then that more of my friends opened up to me about going to speak to therapists. I found a surprisingly large number of my college and high school friends had sought out help from their university counseling center. I am not alone in this. Others go through this too!

All of these revelations made me realize that having depression, or anxiety, or any other mental illness is not something you should hide away in your life. You would never expect someone who had diabetes or the flu to be ashamed of the way their body is acting, so why should you? Talking about mental health normalizes it; it makes it easier for people to comprehend what it means when you say, “I have been diagnosed with clinical depression.” I have people of all ages ask me about my journey from my dark beginning to my shining future. All of the questions they asked stemmed from a sense of curiosity and a need to understand and empathize. Never have I been treated with contempt, disgust, or disappointment from anyone who I have told about my struggles with depression.

So it’s okay to have depression and it’s okay to have to take medication for it. It’s okay to smile and look at your progress, and it’s okay to have bad days too. You are a young, wonderful person who has a world of opportunities at your feet. I want you to know that you don’t have to face this alone, and you’re not the only one who has ever gone through this. Help is always there for those who seek it out. I know this journey can be tough, and you’ll face a lot of obstacles that seem insurmountable, but I truly believe that one day we can be happy again.

Reaching Out

For me, depression wasn’t something I immediately woke up with. What seemed to happen was that an occasional, normal, “it happens” bad morning slowly started to become more regular. I quickly went from ready to seize the day at TCU from not wanting to even get out of bed. When it’s like that, and it happens so slowly, it can be hard to realize just what exactly is happening. I hate to the use the classic analogy of putting a frog in water and slowly turning it to a boil, but… that really does seem to best explain what happened here.

What made things more difficult was that I seemed to be able to hide it easily enough. I’m fairly quiet as-is, so me speaking up less frequently in class or talking less to my roommates wasn't some alarming cause for concern. It could easily be explained away by thinking of the college course load stress, or not getting enough sleep, or some other easy way to rationalize it (mostly for myself). It is surprisingly easy to trick oneself into thinking that things aren't really a problem right now. And apparently I was an actor or something in my past life, because other people seemed to not notice anything either.

Thankfully, I finally got a wake-up call one day that things should not be how they were on such a regular basis. I read a book that seemed to be a perfect parallel to my life. Maybe I just picked up on it more quickly because of how introspective I get when I read books, but something in those pages forced me to take a hard look at myself and realize that I was in a funk. In a way, the realization and acknowledgement that I was depressed was itself a huge step towards overcoming all of that.

I began jumping into social situations more (something that my introverted self doesn’t exactly do easily normally!). I started to get back into a workout routine. And most importantly, I finally started to be honest with myself about what I needed to do to make sure that I stayed happy and healthy. And I think I did quite an okay job of that- or else I wouldn’t be here right now writing about all of this.

So what can I leave to you, the reader, as some sort of advice for the future? If you think you are depressed: Be honest with yourself and with others. There isn’t some shame in being like that. It happens all the time to people everywhere, including our perfect little campus. If you’re somebody who talks more easily to people, let them know what you’re going through. Building up support like that can help you get through so many things in life. And finally, please go to the Counseling Center. You aren’t weird for doing so. In fact, it just shows that you may just have more guts than a ton of others.

And if you’re a friend trying to look out for other friends: Try to stay aware of how their lives are going. Even if somebody is as quiet as I can be, you can still tell if suddenly they’re grumpier, or shying away from socializing more regularly, or quieter in general. And be honest with what you’re seeing from them. That can be a jumpstart moment to help them out. Having gone through that depression life, I know I’m definitely more in tune with what that looks like, and I want to help people in any way I can. After all, you always want to get that frog out of the boiling water before it gets too hot to handle.