Emily H.
Photography by Jessica Pentel
Dear Reader,
Emily’s letter describes her personal journey with Anxiety, Depression, Suicidal Ideation and an Eating Disorder and we advise those who may be triggered by these topics to exercise caution when reading this letter. If you are struggling please reach out to our Peer Contacts or one of the resources listed on our Resources Page.
Sincerely, The IfYoureReadingThis Team
If you're reading this, it’s okay to rely on the hope others have for you when you feel drained of your own.
I can’t remember a defining moment where my life changed from being “happy girl,” my mom’s childhood nickname for me, to a girl that wanted to end her life. My young mind chose to start the unobtainable journey to perfection in an attempt to muddle through my depression. I thought that maybe if I was perfect, I would find the desire to live. I embedded this mindset in everything I did. My therapist and family grew concerned, and the classic “I know it’s hard, but life can get better” echoed around me. Since the age of 12, I felt guilty for being suicidal and the pain it would inflict on my family. So in order to cope with this mindset, I started starving myself and relying on self-harm.
I have always been open about my struggle with anxiety, but I hid my depression and eating disorder. This was mainly because people weren’t concerned about my anxiety; they viewed it as a result of being a hardworking student. I knew I was struggling with chronic depression, anxiety, and an eating disorder, but I thought those were too many problems to have to fit my definition of perfect. I firmly believed that when I was ready, I could get better by myself, but I just kept saying “not yet.” I thought that I could push myself to the point right before my body and mind would break, then I would seek help. I viewed my mental health as something I had to control on my own. I had a therapist in the past, but my mentality was that I would get better when I wanted to. I told myself that I could bring myself back to healthy if I needed to, but I just wasn’t sick enough yet. If you couldn’t tell, this was bullshit. It was just a sick game I played with myself to see how much I could take before I broke.
When I came to college, a series of traumatic events occurred that triggered me back into my depression and my eating disorder habits. I tried my best to hide it and be perfect for everyone around me, but my breakdown was inevitable. College became a slow build up to my worst depressive episode yet. My second year at UVA, I started to lose interest in life. I felt like I was constantly grabbing glass shards of a broken vase trying to put it back together, but resulted in nothing more than bloodied hands. I felt hopeless and frustrated, so I started to starve myself. Luckily COVID-19 hit and gave me time to focus on my mental health and take a break from my life.
It got to a point where my therapist was no longer confident that I could keep myself alive, and I ended up in a treatment center. I befriended a 40 year old man with bipolar disorder and a 22 year old man with depression and anxiety. We were quite the trio. I thought of my time there as just another step in convincing everyone around me that I was okay, so I played the role: I ate during meal times, I participated in activities, went to all the therapy sessions; However, I still cried myself to sleep every night and woke up scared for the day. It was during lunch time one day, when my 40 year old friend looked at my baggy clothes, left arm, and said to me “This doesn’t have to take over your entire life.” He didn’t think anything of it and casually returned to his conversation about how uncomfortable his bed was, but he left an impression on me. I had heard this from my therapist before, but him giving me the hope he didn’t have for himself stuck with me.
My depression, anxiety, and eating disorder was something of my own; it was all I knew. I’ve always put a lot of pressure on myself in relation to my mental health. I believed that these were my issues that I had to face alone and fix by myself. I had such a tight grasp on my mental illnesses and claimed it as an issue too big for anyone else to handle. But if I’ve learned that this struggle is impossible to face alone. My therapist saved my life last summer, because she was able to see that I was at the breaking point I told myself I would be able to recognize. I was fully ready to push myself further, but she pulled me back.
I still struggle and by no means am I in the land of rainbows and butterflies with my mental health; but instead of beating myself up about where I’m at, I work towards showing myself grace. And when I feel like I cannot fathom any hope or strength for myself, I remind myself that my friend envisioned a life for me that wasn’t consumed by my mental illnesses, and I sometimes choose to believe him.
Throughout therapy, my previous therapist and I referred to my depression as me drowning in the ocean. There are moments that I come up for air, but the shore is still far. I thought that if I was still in the water I was failing and there was no progress. But it isn’t a linear journey, and there will still be times when I go under the water and lose my breath, but I surface again and continue to strive towards the shore. My therapist had always told me that she might not be able to drag me back to shore but she would be there to throw me floaties when I was too tired to tread water. I can’t be my sole savior all the time, and that doesn’t mean I’m weak or flawed; it means I’m human, but also not alone.
Everyone’s mental health is different. People might have the same diagnosis and process it differently. But a commonality in people who suffer with mental illnesses is that they feel isolated in their darkness. This doesn’t have to be the case, because we are not equipped to deal with pain alone. It doesn’t have to be a therapist or even an adult. It can be a peer, a friend, or even a stranger you meet in the most inconceivable situations.
If you’re reading this, and you feel incapable of being strong enough, let someone lend you some strength to find the seed of hope that keeps you going. If you feel like you don’t have anyone, Peer Health Educators are always available to be your someone and help you carry the weight of the pain you bear. I am also available to be your someone. If you feel like you need someone, don't hesitate to reach out.
Emily H., University of Virginia ‘22
Peer Health Educator
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