Anonymous

Photography by Evan Harris

If you’re reading this, take care of yourself.

Growing up, I always had a vision in my head for what my future should look like. My idea of success was defined by academics, making my parents proud, having the courage to follow my passions, and surrounding myself with quality people. I wanted to do it all.

I believed that success came from careful planning and relentless hard work. This was until I entered high school, when I faced a new challenge: severe anxiety and panic attacks. I came to understand that my ideas of success were previously defined in a world void of a personal battle with mental illness. My new normal would redefine the way I led my life. 

Anxiety plagued the last few years of my high school experience, but with graduation looming, college applications in process, and the dynamics of evolving relationships, I averted my gaze away from how I was feeling. I was comfortable with being uncomfortable in a sense of the word. The way I felt, beginning in 2019, continued along a downward spiral as time passed. 

It was only after five years as a sophomore in college that I bit the bullet— I finally decided to get the help I needed.

I was diagnosed with Generalised Anxiety Disorder and Panic Disorder and felt in control for the first time. This newfound closure seemed to be the answer to all of my problems—in understanding what was wrong, perhaps now the only obstacle was finding the correct medication.

I wasn’t ready for all the trial and error that it would take over the year and the distress that wrong medication would cause me. Multiple failed medicine trials later, I was dealing with severe side effects that were worsening my mental health while I still juggled academics and extracurriculars.

By the end of 2024, my mental health had never been worse. My usual optimistic personality had begun to fade—I had reached my breaking point. Anxiety was interfering with all aspects of my daily life, and I plummeted into a depression. I loved college, but for the first time, I wanted to give up.

I tried to convince myself that temporary fixes like focusing on my social life, carving out a few hours every day to make time for something I loved and attempting to shift my mindset away from academics would lead to a slow improvement in my mental health, but Wake Forest isn’t an environment that allows for that. Nothing was working.

 I decided to wait until the end of the semester to see how I felt about taking time off, but imagining myself in college continuing the way I had been got harder by the day.

The idea of taking time off terrified me. I didn’t want to feel or be perceived as a failure. I didn’t want anyone to know how much I was struggling; the time off would give it away. Ultimately, I made the very hard decision to take some time away from school and be at home. 

Initially, being at home was hard. I constantly went back and forth in my head with the decision. It seemed like all my friends and peers were moving on with their lives, and I was stuck. 

Being at home and suddenly having my time not governed by a calendar and to-do list made me feel extremely guilty because I had it ingrained in my head to constantly be working towards my next goal. From having a packed schedule down to the minute for the last few years to feeling boredom — a feeling I had forgotten in the chaos- it was a massive adjustment. I had to remind myself that doing nothing was what my mind and body needed in order to slow down.

 Pretty soon, I realised that I was so burnt out from the last few years of constantly focusing on the next goal—I forgot how to take care of myself. 

These last few months at home have been the best decision I could’ve made for myself. I found a medication that works, have been able to make time for regular therapy, and most importantly, have allowed myself to exist outside of my own unrealistic expectations. I’ve spent the last few months prioritising self-care, which to me is reading books, spending time with family, and enjoying long walks with my thoughts and music. While seemingly simplistic pleasures, we often forget to take a second and practice them for the betterment of our hearts and minds. I’m starting to feel like myself again, and I’ve been able to enjoy the fruits of the hard work I’ve invested into me.

Please take care of yourself, slow down and listen to your needs, and make space for joy. We owe it to ourselves. You are never alone in your struggles.

                        Sincerely,

Anonymous, Wake Forest University

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