David L.
Photography by Aneesa Wermers
Please Note: In my letter, I will be discussing my experiences with depression, suicidal ideation, and self-harm. If this will be distressing or triggering, I implore you to read another letter or be ready to call on a support system. Please take care of yourself!
If you’re reading this, I love you.
When I first set out to write this letter, I wasn’t sure what to say. I felt guilty that I didn’t have a nice conclusion to my story. I haven’t had some magical experience that cured me of my depression or answer that will take the pain away, and I’ve realized that’s okay. I think when it comes to mental illness, there’s this belief that those who suffer from it are broken or fragile. There is a sense of guilt and pressure that builds because we aren’t supposed to feel any of the turmoil that comes with mental illness. The thoughts and feelings brought on by my depression are often reduced to simple symptoms of illness. It’s just a mild cough. A little more therapy or some more meds will make it go away.
It is okay to scream.
It is okay to cry.
It’s okay to hurt because sometimes that’s all you really can do. I honestly can’t remember a time without my depression. It’s a ball and chain that has taken me to some dark places. I’ve lost friends over it. Some of my friends are completely oblivious to it. Sometimes the chain is loose and sometimes it isn’t. There was a period in my life when dates stopped mattering to me. I didn’t care when papers were due, when tests were coming up, or if I had plans with friends or family. The blunt truth is I wasn’t planning on seeing any of those dates. I began self-harming in various ways and punishing myself for the way I felt. I spent countless nights making myself sick with the thoughts I was having only to walk into class the next day as if nothing was wrong. I began isolating myself because I was paralyzed by the thought of someone seeing through the cracks in the mask, of catching a peek behind the curtain. I was struggling to hold in the loneliness.
That’s when you saved me, the very person reading this letter. The truth is the only people that will understand these experiences are those who have also lived them. A frequent mantra when one thinks of mental illness is “You are not alone.” I was skeptical until I realized I was thinking about it in the wrong way. We are all connected in a shared trauma, everybody reading this and everybody writing, a unique bond that not everybody experiences. We are collectively united through individual loneliness. Anytime I felt like giving up, I thought of the millions of other people dealing with the same hurts and various burdens and how they continued to keep going. Suddenly a suffocating world seemed a little bit bigger. Anytime I feel I’m walking alone, I remind myself that I am connected to countless strangers. In this way, we are all surrounded by a myriad of invisible allies and friends; there is something beautiful and comforting in that.
We are still here.
I am doing better now. I take my medication every day and go to weekly therapy. I write and volunteer. I’m very lucky and grateful to have met some incredible people both because of my pain and in the absence of it. I am not free, but I am okay and that is enough. If you are reading this, thank you for staying here with me. I love you.
David L., Boston College
Originally published February 11, 2022
It’s been a little over a year since I wrote my letter, and I never expected it to make such an impact on my life. I’ve had many wonderful people reach out to me because of it, and it has connected me to so many extraordinary individuals I wouldn’t have met otherwise. I also joined the IYRT team last year and found myself part of an incredible, supportive team of peers working to advance the conversation about mental health each and every day. I’m so grateful to have met you all, be it the IYRT team or anyone who reached out through the author contact form.
The biggest thing I’ve learned is to stop chasing happiness and instead embrace wonder. Happiness is always just out of reach, a moving target that perpetually moves faster than you. I’ll be happy once midterms are over. Alright, midterms are over, but I’ll actually be happy once I see I got a good grade on them; the cycle never ends. Enter the pursuit of wonder. While happiness is always a step or two in front of you, wonder travels with you. Wonder is the feeling of falling in love or meeting someone new. It is the terror of learning to care so deeply for someone who was once a stranger. Wonder is vulnerability and the potential for heartbreak, pain, and grief. And yet, it is also the shared laugh with friends that leaves you clutching your sides, the song of birds perched amidst seas of scarlet leaves, and the breath that inhabits your lungs. On the days it feels like the sky is falling, marvel at your strength to hold such weight, such pain, and still, your heart continues to beat all the same. On the days you are on top of the world, cherish the moment, cherish what it means to live.
Maybe you’re reading this extremely skeptical and think I’ve lost it or need to reel it in. You may think you’re worse off than me, that I don’t understand what your depression is like, and you’d be correct. Everyone is different. But I see you just the same, which is something serendipitous at the very least. October is National Depression Awareness and Mental Health Screening Month. Mental health affects everyone. Check in with yourself. Check in with your friends and family. You’re all wonderful people. If you’re reading this, I still love you.
David L.
Addendum added October 27, 2023
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