Khuyen D.

Photography by Dominick Fini

I used to speed walk across Grounds and fill my Google calendar with all of the colors I possibly could. It was a coloring page for me; things to do, people to see. My head was constantly full, never empty. As I raced from one destination to the next, from one event to another, I often thought to myself, if I move fast enough, I won’t be able to hear my own thoughts. If I didn’t have time to think, I wouldn’t have anything to think about, or overthink about for that matter. Because there was a side of me that was not on that Google calendar, and it was one that I had a hard time facing: my thoughts of depression were ones that did not have an assigned color on my key.

I soon found myself in this pattern around my third year: filling my schedule with endless things but sometimes not wanting to participate in them at all. Wanting to be sprinting on Grounds while also wanting to be tucked into my bed with my eyes closed, hidden away from the world. I didn’t feel anything anymore. I skipped class, or ended up crying in the middle of those classes unsure why, not fully listening in meetings or asking people to repeat themselves because I wasn’t fully present. I felt numb most days, auto-piloting my way through life. I let my thoughts take control of my life, it was easy to let them push me around and into the darkness. Despite my calendar proving I could be everywhere, I suddenly didn’t want to be anywhere.

Honestly, I didn’t want to admit these feelings or thoughts to anyone. I didn’t want people to find out about this part of me because I didn’t want them to see me in a different light or change the way they perceived me. I did not want the pity and I didn’t want the view of me crying in front of the whole class to take over people’s main perception of me. I wanted to make others feel good, not be someone who brings others down with her own issues.

My thoughts became too much to bear and I took what felt like a risk at the time and started seeing a therapist. I still remember staring at that video call unsure of what I was ready to admit to them, nevertheless myself. I took a deep breath, and entered the virtual meeting room.

I’ve had a lot of enlightening conversations with my therapist in the past year. I learned that those thoughts I allowed myself to have were never compassionate toward myself. It was then I finally began to truly open up to those around me, which felt like its own journey in itself. I found myself in the arms of my loved ones, crying about how I realized I had been bullying myself for the past couple of years, a truth that still hurts me to admit. I made a goal to sit with and be more compassionate with myself. If I wanted to be kind towards others, that same kindness should also go towards me.

I began learning about the importance of balance. Not only was I having to teach myself about work-life balance, but the concept of balance in general. It was okay to be proud of your accomplishments but sit with the hardships you went through to get there. You can on paper have a great day, but still feel sad at the end of it. Nothing in this world is black and white, and I feel like I learned that the hard way. I practiced noticing my body and my thoughts, the hardest thing I’ve done in the last four years. Admitting these to myself as well as my friends has done wonders in my life. I am no longer carrying these thoughts by myself but with support. With all the different facets that I am composed of, it’s easy to not want depression and anxiety to be one of them but this learning process has given me strength in accepting that.

I’m still learning to be honest. And my actions have helped me make habits out of it. I walk a lot slower on the Lawn now and my calendar has a lot more white space. I say yes to things more spontaneously and allow myself to have conversations that might be harder to have. I am learning to be present and learning to be vulnerable and how to have that balance.

I hope you are kind to yourself and that you continue learning. If you’re reading this, you are allowed to live in the in betweens, you can learn a lot in the gray. Nothing is black and white.

Khuyen D., University of Virginia

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