Opening Up: My Journey Through Mental Health and Self-Discovery

This morning, as I lay in bed, my mind raced with thoughts about how to convey “the story” – my story. A torrent of questions flooded my consciousness: How much should I reveal? Is it truly necessary to lay bare every detail? What kind of reception will this raw honesty receive? And perhaps most profoundly, why am I choosing to do this now? Shouldn’t some experiences just be tucked away, forgotten, allowing life to simply carry on?

After much contemplation, I’ve decided: I am going to tell the whole story. Every significant detail that shaped me, as much as I possibly can articulate. My hope isn’t for pity, but for connection – maybe a high five, a comforting hug, or even a resounding “way to go!” This endeavor is deeply personal; I am doing this for me, but I am also doing it for you. Far too many individuals grapple with mental health issues in silence, burdened by a pervasive stigma that discourages open dialogue. This is precisely why we must speak up, embrace our vulnerabilities, and normalize these crucial conversations.

It’s important to clarify that my intention is not to cast a shadow of negativity, especially since I currently find myself in a truly wonderful and resilient place in life. Instead, this is simply me, courageously opening up about my mental health struggles, because I’ve discovered a profound truth: the more I share, the lighter I feel, and the more clarity I gain. This comprehensive narrative will unfold in three distinct parts, each diving into a significant chapter of my life. Here I go, ready to begin…

The Story: Part 1 – The Formative Years (Before College)

Early Childhood: Seeds of Anxiety and Depression

Looking back, I have strong suspicions that the subtle stirrings of my depression began incredibly early, perhaps as far back as second grade. Our family had just made a significant move from the vibrant city of San Francisco to the unfamiliar landscape of Atlanta. This transition felt less like a new adventure and more like a jarring disruption. I fiercely resisted everything about my new life. School became a source of dread, swimming lessons a battleground. I vividly recall throwing frequent, intense fits, and my mood swings were a constant, unpredictable roller coaster. One moment, I might be withdrawn and tearful; the next, irrationally angry. This wasn’t merely childhood petulance; there was a deeper undercurrent of emotional distress that, in retrospect, I recognize as the nascent stages of depression.

A mere year and a half later, another move brought us to Milwaukee. This time, thankfully, the transition felt different. I found myself fitting seamlessly into the third-grade environment. My spirits noticeably picked up, and I began to rediscover the happy-go-lucky Lee I inherently felt I should be. It still feels somewhat strange to consider children as having complex emotional states like anxiety and depression, yet I can sincerely recall experiencing profound anxiety even as an adolescent, a feeling that lingered and resurfaced throughout my younger years. The shifts in environment, coupled with the internal struggle to adapt, were clearly more impactful than I understood at the time.

Me (4) and Sister (5)

Middle School & High School: The Quest for Acceptance

Let’s fast forward to the tumultuous years of Middle School and High School. While everyone experiences their share of awkward phases during adolescence, this period proved exceptionally difficult for me. I often felt like I was the designated target – singled out, scrutinized, subjected to rumors, and relentlessly made fun of. There’s that classic scenario in a group of friends, where one person is secretly disliked by the others; I distinctly felt that was me. I was trapped in a desperate cycle, constantly trying to be someone I wasn’t, chasing acceptance from a crowd that fundamentally wasn’t for me. This internal turmoil manifested externally; I became unkind to my parents, and my relationship with my sister was distant, marked by a lack of genuine connection. In high school, I wouldn’t have outright labeled myself as “depressed,” but I certainly wasn’t happy. I internalized the blame, convinced that my inability to “fit in” was a personal failing. My self-worth plummeted, and I couldn’t comprehend why I wasn’t universally adored. Looking back now with clarity, I see a vulnerable girl, utterly desperate to be “liked” and accepted, sacrificing her true self in the process.

A significant shift began during my sophomore year of high school. Exhausted by the relentless pursuit of external validation, I consciously decided to redirect my energy towards activities that genuinely brought me joy and a sense of accomplishment: intense schoolwork, active participation in the student union, creative art projects, and competitive sports. This period marked a crucial turning point where I began to purposefully distance myself from those who were not authentic friends, choosing instead to invest my time and emotions in people who truly valued me. My circle of close confidantes during this time consisted predominantly of male friends, with only a select few girls I felt I could trust. It’s hard to articulate just how challenging it was to participate in varsity sports, pushing my physical and mental limits, while simultaneously feeling a persistent lack of trust among some of my female teammates. I was constantly on guard, an emotional wall erected around myself when interacting with other young women. This realization is particularly fascinating to me now, as I’ve since discovered immense strength, unwavering support, and deep camaraderie within the community of women who enrich my life today. Despite the internal struggles, high school also gifted me some truly incredible moments of shared joy and connection, particularly through sports. Yet, even in those peak moments, I rarely felt 100% comfortable or believed that these friendships, especially the deeper personal ones, would truly last.

The Duality of High School: External Smiles, Internal Struggles

It’s important to clarify that despite the aforementioned “bad times” and internal battles, I genuinely did enjoy high school on the surface, and outwardly, I presented as a happy, engaged girl. I was incredibly involved in my school’s vibrant community, pouring my energy into various activities. I cherish fond memories of exhilarating sports victories with my teammates, the electric atmosphere of countless school functions, the thrill of cheering enthusiastically at events, and coming home to a house consistently filled with infectious energy and many people. I was fortunate to have some truly great friends – Kelsey, Amanda, Matt, Alex, Lauren, Mark, Austin, Doug, and Marla – with whom I shared many laughter-filled moments and positive experiences. This duality, however, perfectly encapsulates the complexity of my adolescent experience: a seemingly cheerful, active exterior often masking a deeper internal struggle.

This glimpse into my pre-college self is crucial for understanding the foundational roots of my later challenges. My eating disorder and the deeper layers of my depression didn’t suddenly materialize overnight; they stemmed from a cumulative build-up spanning years. It was a long process of not truly knowing myself, of lacking genuine confidence in who I was, and struggling to define the person I aspired to become. These early experiences, particularly the search for belonging and self-acceptance, laid the groundwork for the more intense struggles I would face in young adulthood.

The Story: Part 2 – Navigating the Challenges of College Life

The Freshman Year Betrayal: A Catalyst for Depression

My depression took a much darker, more pronounced turn the summer after my freshman year of college. I had met a guy in my dorm who quickly captured my adoration and attention. We spent a significant amount of time together, building what I believed to be a genuine connection. The short version of a painful story is this: I devastatingly discovered he had been in a committed relationship with a girlfriend attending a different school throughout our entire time together. Enough said? The emotional fallout was catastrophic. I felt an overwhelming sense of betrayal, humiliation, and utter devastation. The idea of doing such a thing to another person was utterly antithetical to my values. I became intensely frustrated with myself, not only for having invested so much precious time and emotional energy into someone so dishonest but also for my perceived naiveté. The subsequent summer, spent back home in Milwaukee, was a blur of lethargy and profound lack of motivation. My days were often spent slugging around, devoid of energy or purpose. Compounding this emotional distress, I also began to gain a little bit of weight, which further exacerbated my already fragile self-image.

Sophomore Year Struggles: Isolation and Body Image

That summer was marked by intense self-blame. I agonized over every decision, every interaction, convinced that I was somehow responsible for the betrayal. As my sophomore year of college approached, I was determined to forge a fresh start, to leave the pain of the past behind. However, my depression proved to be a stubborn companion, relentlessly persisting. The issues I had with my body image, already present, only deepened during this period. That year, I lived in a house with five other girls. While they were, in essence, “normal” college girls focused on typical social activities and partying, I was in an exceptionally difficult place in my life where “normal” simply wasn’t an option. Their carefree lifestyle often highlighted my internal struggles, making me feel even more isolated and out of sync with my peers.

The Lifeline of Friendship: Finding Sam

Amidst this profound loneliness and emotional turmoil, one true friend emerged as a beacon of hope: Sam. She became an indispensable anchor in my life, offering not just companionship but genuine understanding and unwavering support. Sam helped me in ways I hadn’t realized I desperately needed – she helped me begin the arduous process of loving my body and, more importantly, loving myself. I relied on her for so much, almost as if she had become the sister who was currently abroad in Cape Town, far from my reach. Sam possessed an incredible zest for life; she truly loved herself and radiated a deep love for the world around her. Her vibrant energy and positive outlook were a powerful shield, consistently keeping me from spiraling deeper into a depressive state. She encouraged me to see my worth, to challenge my negative self-talk, and to simply exist without judgment.

Sam and I at her brother’s wedding

It was during this critical period that I began to truly understand and profoundly value the concept of loyalty in relationships. I yearned to be a committed, thoughtful, and steadfast friend, and in turn, I deeply relied on having close friends whom I could trust implicitly and into whom I could wholeheartedly invest my time and energy. Sam embodied everything I valued in a friendship: she was incredibly genuine, authentically happy, and brought a unique grace to every interaction. I remain eternally grateful to have met her, as her presence served as a powerful reminder that cultivating such positive energy and unwavering grace in oneself and one’s relationships is a truly worthy pursuit. Her resilience and self-love were inspiring, a tangible example of the emotional well-being I desperately sought. Sadly, a year later, Sam transferred to a different school. This departure left an immense void in my life, and with her physical absence, I truly felt a profound sense of isolation once more, confronting my struggles largely on my own.

to be continued…