I went through a roller coaster of emotions and opportunities the next four years. You could say many of my struggles were the same as other young adults: self-discovery, purpose, interests, and switching majors. I knew I wasn’t the only one battling anxiety, nerves, stress, lack of focus, doubt, confidence, and sexual identity. My doctors provided me with ways to counter these negative feelings, along with many valuable lessons. Among the most important lessons was my battle being life long, and learning how to throw counter punches. Having people in my corner made my fight much more manageable. Apart from offering support, advice, and encouragement, they picked me up when I was down and out. There were plenty of times when I was down for the count, and didn’t think I could drag myself to my feet. Those in my corner wouldn’t let me stay down:
- Being hospitalized multiple times, for various reasons
- Staying at a mental institution
- Struggling with the meaning of life
- Suicidal thoughts and actions
- A seizure, knocking me unconscious
- Not being able to drive my car for 6 months
- Multiple car accidents, some resulting in trauma
I felt I was making friends with the medical staff for all the wrong reasons. Apart from going to my check-ups and scheduled appointments, these hospitalizations were the result of me being an out of control ball of emotions, experiencing severe depression. Most of the time, I knew I was doing wrong, but was unable to be stronger than my mind. The only way to keep me safe was keeping me away from others, in a cage. These visits served as reminders about my lifelong fight. Not being able to drive for 6 months was a result of my seizure, and increased my dependency on others, more so than usual. Not included are the many times I agitated my loved ones, the few people who were in my corner, ready and willing to help me. Despite this, every time I looked behind me, there they were; I will never know how to repay them. How did I manage to drag myself up? The company I was able to spend my collegiate years with, and these achievements:
- Getting a job as an Intramural Official, and keeping it through Graduation
- Joining the Club Dodgeball team, eventually becoming back-to-back-to back National Champions
- Joining an on-campus Depression Group
- Sharing my first kiss with Luke
- Meeting new friends, who accepted my struggles, and who helped guide me
- Coming out to my mother. Surprise! She already knew and loved me the same
- Accepting I’m gay
- Asking Luke to be my boyfriend. He said yes!
- Receiving my Bachelors Degree in Creative Writing
- Going to my doctors when I felt “different”
The camaraderie I formed with each of my circles of friends made me feel welcome, loved, and appreciated. It was a night and day of difference between this time period and my freshman year. A large part of me accepting my identity was coming to grips with being gay. I knew I felt differently about boys my whole life, but sexual identity isn’t simply about rules of attraction. I was ashamed and embarrassed to share with Luke; I told him through a silly game. Once I finally accepted being gay, I had nothing more to hide: I had accepted my mental health illnesses and was completely honest with myself. I use my past as a reminder that it always gets better. I use my past to remind me that my wings get tattered, but I still know how to fly.
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