Haley S.
Photography by Ally Szabo
Please note: In this letter, I discuss my experience with suicidal ideation. If you believe this topic will be triggering for you, I encourage you to take care of yourself and be prepared to access any resources you may need. The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline is available 24/7 at 988 or suicidepreventionlifeline.org
If you’re reading this, know that healing has no time frame, and that is okay.
I am a routine-oriented person – I thrive on schedules and going through the motions of completing a task step by step until I see success. For me, there are always positive results when things are done according to plan, and I make sure that I do everything in my power to get to where I want to be. It is not always easy, but it always gets done. I do not accept failure.
I began this letter this past March, a month that once was just another month. My high school experience was shaped in large part by two eating disorders and, with that, a vast array of mental health-related issues. “I am ugly, I look fat today, my skin is breaking out even more,” and in one case, just one case: “I do not want to be here anymore.”
While filled with great people, high school did not always provide me with the highest values of self-confidence or self-worth. I was conscious about anything and everything and did not feel like I had truly found myself yet. I was stick-thin until my freshman year of high school, and from there, things started to go downhill mentally. After experiencing weight gain that first year and what I deemed as seasonal depression in the winter of my sophomore year, I sought help. I stuck with the same therapist until March of my senior year of high school.
Spending time with the same therapist allowed us to devote good time to trying out different resources and different techniques, working to touch upon everything that had led me to some of the negative thoughts I had been associating with myself for years.
In one of my first therapy appointments, I was asked about my fears. I have three big fears, and the biggest is failure. I am a perfectionist. I allow myself very little room for failure, and I very nearly failed in March of my senior year. I was the lowest I had ever been, and trust me, I thought I had known low before. I do not often talk about what happened that month but here is what did not happen – I did not let my suicidal ideations win.
March 12th, 2021. I got to a point where I thought I could not handle it. For a second, I believed I was ready to take myself out of this world. I knew how I was going to go, as painful as that sounds. I avoid parts of my small hometown because of it, and I do not talk about it with others. Before this letter, just three people knew about this part of me. It only takes a second. That second did not happen for me.
I once believed that things would never get better. I once thought the end was close enough for me. It was not. It will not be for a while. In the past, I isolated myself from everyone, my mind tricking me into thinking that if no one could help, no one should know. I was depressed for a long time in high school, and I am not sure how many people actually knew that. There are still times when I want to quit, to stop being myself, and to become someone entirely different. I had been in therapy for nearly two years, but this thought, this action I planned to take, was the biggest setback of them all. My healing is slower than my brain and my body want it to be. A huge piece of myself broke that month, that day among others, and I am still seeking ways to help myself; I am still healing.
I stopped denying what had happened in the past and instead accepted it. I learned how to respond, rather than just simply reacting, to the pain. I accepted that there is no set routine, no set schedule that will make me 100% perfect. The new social worker I gained during the difficult month of March 2021 holds more than just that one title, she is one of my closest confidantes, and she has helped me in more ways than she probably knows. I believe I can say that about a lot of people – it is never a solo journey, and there will always be people in my corner.
I went from my lowest point mentally to my highest point mentally in the span of nine months. It was at Villanova where I truly came to acknowledge how much growth I had already experienced in my healing journey post–March 2021. While I want to credit myself for letting time play out, Villanova exposed me to some of the greatest people I know and gave me my favorite experiences, despite only being a second-year student now. It pained me to give my roommate a list of “watch Haley days,” a list with 13 days I knew would be harder to get through than others, but in the end, it was okay. March 2022 had certain memories resurface and, while still difficult, was a thousand times easier than the previous year.
I now know how to pull myself together and out of the dark spots that I once sought comfort in. My healing process has taught me more about myself than anything else. I can go back and forth with my thoughts, breaking things down one by one, but healing operates on its own schedule, and it takes the time it takes. I am learning to be okay with that, taking things in stride and adapting as I go. I have not had that same thought since that day in March.
My healing has not been linear, and neither will yours be – healing is an arduous and complex process. There is a lot to cover between the thoughts of “I am severely unwell” and “I am starting to feel like myself again.” When we heal what hurts, we learn how to show ourselves grace. I am recognizing more and more the benefits of preventative treatment. For me, it always starts with a conversation. I needed to reach out in order to win my fight and allow myself the freedom of knowing that some things are just too big for me to handle alone. This is the first time I have ever written the words suicidal ideation, and while I have come to terms with it enough to sit and write this letter - talking about the one thing that I do not discuss openly anywhere - it is only the beginning of a longer conversation. All it takes is one thought or one second.
Be patient with the process. Be patient with yourself. If you are worried that you will never get out of your dark space, here is your sign that you absolutely will. I am proud of you.
If You’re Reading This, know that healing has no time frame, and that is okay.
Haley S., Villanova University
Connect With Us
To follow IfYoureReadingThis at Villanova on Instagram, get in touch with our chapter, and learn about more resources available to Villanova students, visit our chapter’s homepage.
AUTHOR CONTACT
This author has opted to allow readers who resonate with their story to contact them. If you would like to speak to the author of this letter about their experience, please use the form below.
