We need to talk about the stigma of mental illness more. And I mean it.
I’m not here to present a picture-perfect narrative. Instead, I want to share my raw and unfiltered journey with you, in hopes that it sheds light on the invisible side effects of mental illnesses in college. Ultimately, my work serves as a testament to the importance of prioritizing oneself considering the spiking suicide rates in college, seeking help when needed, and recognizing that it is okay to not be okay. Through sharing my story, I aim to offer hope and encouragement to those who may be struggling, reminding them that seeking support is a sign of strength, not weakness.
Emotional well-being is more than the absence of a mental illness. It’s that resource within each of us which allows us to reach ever closer to our full potential, and which also enables us to be resilient in the face of adversity.
Vivek Murthy
No one tells you about the invisible side effects of mental illnesses in college especially when you’re high functioning. Everyone tells you, ‘Just go to therapy,’ ‘just get some more sleep,’ just sit down and study,’ ‘just take in some sun and get some vitamin D,’ just this, just that, just whatever.
But what happens when none of that works. For me, I almost lost my life. Although I’ve only ever told my best friend LE (the actual sunshine in my life) this, I’m ready to tell the whole world. Mom: if you’re reading this, I love you and it isn’t your fault.
In 7th grade at the age of 11, I attempted to take my life for the first time. I failed (duh I’m writing this). Nearing the end of my sophomore year of high school, right when covid hit, I attempted again. And oh my gosh I failed, big shocker. Well, I was stuck at home in my room all day, there was no reason to tell anyone right? Wrong.
Well, hello! Let me introduce you to myself. I am a 19-year-old sophomore at the University of North Carolina studying Psychology, Political Science, Spanish, and Neuroscience; I know what you’re thing…but don’t click off just yet. As you have probably figured out by now, I’m not perfect, I’m far from perfect actually and I struggle a lot despite what a lot of my peers think about me. Growing up I most definitely had issues with my mental health, but when I brought up the idea that I might need help it was brushed off since I’m so high functioning. The thing is when you get to college, and you’re forced to do everything by yourself, and you get burnt out and tired you can’t just ignore your mental health anymore.
Nearing the end of my freshman year, I attempted for the 3rd time and this was by far the worst; I fully woke up 2 days later after passing in and out and laying on my roommates deflated bean bag as she made sure I was still alive when she would come back; I had told no one except for LE of course but posted on my Instagram about how I genuinely did not want to be alive anymore and that most definitely scared everyone around me. Sorry you all; that was a cry for help that I, myself, didn’t know I was screaming. Before this date I hadn’t told anyone else about that last one at the end of my freshman year cause to be honest I was a little embarrassed. How had I failed 3 times?
Well, why does this matter? Let me explain a little more, just keep reading, just keep reading…My full birth name is Amie Maxine Awura-Afua Boakye (proud Ghanian girly), and in the past 7 months I’ve been diagnoses with 4 mental illnesses: Major Depressive Disorder, Anxiety Disorder, Persistent Depressive Disorder, and Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. (PDD is an extension of MDD) Wow. A lot. Trust me I know. And as someone who took 24 credit hours last semester and is taking 25 this semester, man did these hit me like a truck. Coming into college I aspired to be a Rhodes Scholar, go to Harvard or Columbia Law School, Study Abroad in Spain, and achieve a 3.8+ all while working and cheering on the all-girl competitive team.
My dream of being a Rhodes Scholar was of course crushed when I got a 3.2 my first semester after somehow clawing my way through while seriously suffocating. Well, at least I was finally 18 and I could go see a psychiatrist. I started Prozac and after having to go through hurdles to get ADHD testing since I am out of state and my provider can’t provide me stimulants out of state, I finally got ADHD medication today, the day I’m writing this—March 5th, 2024.
Today I cried listening to Denzel Washington’s speech Fall forward, my favorite speech ever (which I have a tattoo of), because for the first time I looked at my best friend as my brain quieted down and asked her “Is this what normal functioning people feel like?” Finally, I felt like instead of falling into an empty abyss staring at my impending demise, I fell forward. I made mistakes this semester, I lost one of my closest friends and man did that hurt, I missed a lot of class, but I fell forward and at the end of the day that’s better than nothing.
No one told me that being exhausted all the time 24/7 no matter how much I slept was a symptom of my ADHD. No one told me that I would become frozen unable to move or go anywhere I agreed to go or do because of my ADHD. No one told me life was virtually impossible when you know you have responsibilities that you fully committed to, but your body is screaming no. No one told me I wouldn’t be able to eat or think when I get anxious. No one told me that I would have to fight for my life whilst working in college, whilst cheering, whilst looking at everyone else around wondering why me? Wondering why I got all the illnesses, and some people don’t have to try to be happy. If you’re reading this and you feel all these emotions and more just know you truly are not alone. Life is hard, and college is rough. I’m learning as I go, and I hope that this can provide at least one person a little hope for their lives.
Although I learned this when I originally got medicated, I felt it today: It is okay to need to be medicated. I need to be medicated to survive and to want to live and that’s okay and that’s nothing to be embarrassed of.
People post on social media, on all different types of platforms about how humans are ruining their bodies with medications and how if we just ate the right foods, got all necessary nutrients, and exercised, we wouldn’t have to worry about depression and other issues alike. I just want you to know that’s wrong. It’s okay to not be okay, it’s okay to need to be medicated, it’s okay to need a psychiatrist and therapy and anything else you need to make yourself the best version of you, that you can be. Put yourself first because no one else is going to for you. It might have taken me 10 years to finally learn these lessons, but hey I did it!
You’ve probably heard this but if you’re debating or as I like to call it on the tightrope of life, it gets better. I know everyone says that but mines a little different. It gets better; it’s hard as hell, you have to fight, you have to figure out what works for you, you’re going to have bad days, detrimental days at that, but the end…oh my god the end is so worth it.
My dear friend who passed on January 21, 2024 Molly would tell me “don’t forget to hug whatcha love,” and so I’m passing that onto to you all hoping that she’s watching from up above. Today, as I stand on the precipice of my journey, I embrace the truth that it’s okay to not be okay.
Signing off, XOXO, Amie <3
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