Evan H.
Photography by Jessica Pentel
If you’re reading this, it’s okay to struggle with your truth.
It’s okay to struggle with who you are.
College is all about finding your identity and defining the person you want to be. UVa presented itself as such an amazing opportunity as both my dream school and a place to find myself. As a kid, as much as I was into sports and video games and other things kids that age like, there were certain things about myself that were just a bit different. I was smart, but I could never get my homework done. I remember staying up until 3 in the morning frequently in high school because it was the only time I felt my brain and all of the thoughts inside of it slowed down, and I could do my homework and feel like myself. During the day, I often found this same solace by digging deep into hobbies and interests, spending considerable amounts of time and money on them. But often I would move on from these interests, feeling empty, and move on to another one. Taking apart pens, playing with my hair, anything that could entertain and stimulate me instead of paying attention in class was commonplace, but for so many years this behavior went unnoticed because I did well in school. It wasn’t until college where these behaviors began to finally catch up to me, where not paying attention in class or doing work on time had consequences. For two and a half years I struggled in school not because I thought I didn’t belong but I just couldn’t motivate myself to do school. This led to seeds of self-doubt and resentment because as much as I wanted to do well, as much as I wanted to succeed, I couldn’t physically bring myself to do it.
I was diagnosed with ADHD this past winter which has brought a deal of clarity to my life. I could define my struggles within the frame of a chemical imbalance in my brain, not because I was stubborn and lazy. My attention and activation problems that posed such a struggle in the past were becoming just that, things of the past. My hobbies are sources of enjoyment and entertainment, not pits to distract myself in. I found a major that I truly enjoy, and the academic aspect of college has finally become enjoyable and tolerable for me. My quirks weren’t defects, it’s just a part of who I am and I’ve learned to manage and appreciate them.
It’s okay to struggle with your past.
Depression and anxiety are things I have dealt with for most of my life. In 3rd grade, I remember shaking and being unable to eat before my peewee football games because I was so anxious. Much of that same stuff plagued my childhood – I used to get overly emotional when I was name-called or forgot to do my homework or was thrust into social settings where I felt uncomfortable. When I struggled to find my footing socially, I internalized that as a personal problem with myself, that I just wasn’t good enough but that I’d find the right people eventually. Although I knew I struggled with these issues, I never did anything about them. I thought my problems were unimportant and that they would figure themselves out. Many of the same ADHD holes I had dug were also solaces for my depression and anxiety. Being as busy as I was in high school with more extracurriculars than fingers and two sports, I had to be regimented and disciplined, which helped alleviate the ADHD but also kept me from allowing my thoughts and feelings to overcome me. When it was time to graduate, I felt like the weight of the world was being lifted off my shoulders – I was about to start living, finally.
College not only presented an opportunity to define my identity as a person but in my mind, an escape – a chance to start fresh, to reset these problems from high school. And for a moment, it did. But the good times would not last, and my problems resurfaced once more. Instead of speaking out and seeking the help I knew I needed, I internalized them. I would speak to my friends, but I lacked the resolve and awareness to understand what to do and how much help I needed. There would be days where I couldn’t leave my bed except to eat or use the bathroom because that was all the energy I could muster. I would have a day of breakthrough and could eventually pull myself out of these holes, but I bounced back and forth between depressive ruts and feeling ‘normal’ again.
Years of this process, blaming myself for the way I felt and others for what I thought they did to me eventually lead to a breaking point. I let my mental state deteriorate to a point where the depression and anxiety turned into intrusive thoughts, to a point where I felt unsafe with myself. That was the final straw for me in my life, the sign I needed to finally seek professional help and be honest with both myself and my support group about my struggles. Sitting down with a therapist and diagnosing these feelings, this pain, as depression and anxiety confirmed what I already knew. It was liberating knowing that other people were dealing with the same things, that this wasn’t a unique experience that I had to deal with on my own. Most of all, I was able to find comfort in that I could speak about what I was feeling and I was no longer afraid to do so because I had taken that first step. It was finally okay to find the help I so desperately needed for so many years.
I’ve used the time since to speak up about my struggles within my social circles, especially within my fraternity. In an environment that preaches and lives being tough and hiding feelings in the bottom of a bottle, speaking up has allowed others to do the same to me and to their friends. Having a support group that knows that you’re struggling and is willing to help is such an important part of why I’m able to type this story out, and I could not be more thankful for that.
It’s okay to struggle with your truth.
My truth is that despite these traumas, despite what I have had to overcome, the only person capable of growing beyond them and bringing material change to my life is me. For so long I understood the depression and the anxiety and more recently the ADHD, I knew I was struggling and what it looked like. Despite this, I felt like I deserved a fix from the world because I had suffered enough. I often looked to friends, family, relationships, or vices to repair my own holes, no matter how unhealthy or damaging it was to myself and others. Taking personal responsibility for not only my past but for making change in the future is a hard truth.
Most importantly, the real truth is I need to be patient with myself. With clarity and closure comes pain. Healing is not an overnight process. Even when the final piece of trauma has been uncovered, that final root of the invasive weed has been dug out, the healing process hurts. To relive all past traumas and re-experience those feelings again is difficult. It’s easy to gaze through the lens of hindsight and get angry at myself, questioning motives and decisions and values and everything in between. Having the understanding that not only has the past happened, but the patience to allow myself to grieve and heal is necessary to becoming my best self. Sometimes it’s a struggle to drink enough water or eat three meals or to have the discipline to work out, but taking care of myself physically allows me to take care of myself mentally as well. Seeing how far I’ve come motivates me every day because I know how much I’ve struggled and how much I’ve wanted to give up, but I kept pushing. My truth is I have so much left to live for, so much left to experience and so many great people to meet that I won’t let my pain define my life anymore.
So much of my mental health journey I’ve gone through alone; because of that, I’ve become a Peer Contact for If You’re Reading This in order to help others in their journey. You don’t have to struggle alone, there are people at this school and in this community and in your life that want to help. Don’t be afraid to speak up because people care about you more than you can possibly realize. Only you can seek out help for your own sake and to take the steps necessary to improve your own life, but it does not need to be a journey done by yourself. If you’re reading this, you’re not alone because you have a friend in me.
Evan H., University of Virginia
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