Peter V.
Photography by Ally Szabo
Please note: In this letter, there is discussion of suicidal ideation, depression, and anxiety. If you think you may find this content triggering, please consider reading one of the other letters of IfYoureReadingThis.org, or prepare to access any support systems or resources you find helpful.
If you’re reading this, tell your loved ones how you’re feeling, even when it’s hard.
For years I struggled with severe depression and anxiety. For a long time I was able to just bottle it up and keep it to myself, not just because I didn’t want to burden my friends and family, but also because part of me was scared that they wouldn’t care. Looking back it’s easy for me to laugh at how ridiculous it sounds, but it was seriously how I thought about my life. In my mind, I wasn’t good enough to deserve happiness, so why should anyone care about how I was feeling anyways? But the longer I bottled up these feelings and refused to talk about them, the more of a toll it took on me mentally.
In the fall of my sophomore year, I went to a psychiatrist for the first time in my life. I got prescribed antidepressants and was told that they’d make things better. And at first, they did. For a couple of weeks, I felt like myself again. But then my body got used to them and the negative thoughts came back even stronger. By the end of the spring of my sophomore year, I was spending nearly all of my free time alone in my room crying, hoping that I could just die and end all of the pain. It was the first time in my life that I didn’t just want to stop living, I wanted to die. And during all of this, instead of being honest about my treatment not working, I kept quiet, not wanting to let the people around me know that the solution for my pain wasn't working.
Eventually, after countless sleepless nights, I started talking to one of my closest friends who was smart enough to realize that I was on the edge. He pushed me to talk to my parents, who had no idea the extent that I was struggling. It’s important to note that my parents are amazing– truly, I couldn’t have been raised by better people. But even then, I couldn’t find the strength to tell the people who had poured their heart and soul into me that it wasn’t enough. But then I realized that the love my family and friends have for me isn’t conditional. Whether I am struggling or thriving, that love will always be there. And that realization is what pushed me to finally open up.
After talking to my parents, we ended up finding a new psychiatrist who mentioned the possibility of ketamine assisted therapy due to the lack of effectiveness of the antidepressants I was prescribed. And while it definitely isn’t for everyone, I can say that after going through it, most of my negative and harmful thoughts went away. For the first time in a very, very long time, I felt happy to be alive. I started finding joy in my old passions again. I grew closer to the friends and family who supported me every step of the way. Without the weight of depression, I’m able to love myself for who I am.
Peter V., Villanova University
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