Well hello there. It’s 11:49pm and I can’t sleep because I’m anxious about, just about everything. If you didn’t know, I recently tore my ACL and got surgery two weeks ago tomorrow. It’s been a struggle but up until yesterday every day has gotten better. Yeah, yesterday? Yesterday I felt like complete shit. My rehab hit a standstill and I’m still on crutches and in my big brace. I feel weak and miserable because I can’t get around on my own and have to depend on people to do everything for me. Plus, I’m in the middle of fall term getting ready to apply for MFA programs at the end of the year. We had a game earlier today (which we won) and I plastered on a big smile and sat on the bench cheering for my incredible team but on the inside? I wanted to be anywhere else. It kills me watching the team and wanting nothing more than to get on the court with them but knowing I can’t. Add all of that onto the fact I’ve barely been able to eat and have been pushing away the overwhelming urge to binge and purge, well it’s been a rough past few days. When the doctors and PT told me recovery was going to be hard, I thought they meant physically, I had no idea the mental toll it would take on me. This is the worst I’ve felt since arriving at Oregon State. In fact, I just texted my athletic trainer at 11pm telling her I needed to talk to someone because I can’t keep going feeling this way.
I’m writing this because I was almost too embarrassed to tell anyone this is how I’ve been feeling. I’m discouraged and afraid that it won’t get better, even though logically I know it will. I talk a lot about mental health and not being afraid to open up but I’d be lying if I said it’s easy to open up. I hate crying, I hate having people see me vulnerable but I’m trying to teach myself every day that it’s okay to not always have it together. It’s okay to ask for help when you’re struggling. I also wrote this because I don’t want people to only hear from me when everything’s great. This is the reality of dealing with a mental illness, there are days when I think it would be better if I wasn’t here, if I wasn’t going through the stress and pain of all of this. Does it get easier? Of course. Does it go away all together? No.
Before I started typing I took twenty minutes sitting in bed with my head facing down focusing on my breathing. Inhale, exhale. After a few minutes of that I told myself that it would get better even though I didn’t really believe it, but I know I have to keep saying it. There are so many things I haven’t done, and so many things I want to do. I can’t quit now because it’s hard, I have to keep pushing through, even on days like this. The reality of dealing with these things aren’t always pretty but they’re important to acknowledge. If anyone else is going through this, you’re not alone, you should be here, and you are incredibly important. It’s going to get better, it just takes time. Breath. We’ll get through it together.
National Suicide Prevention Hotline: