When I returned to school for spring semester, my depression didn’t improve. In fact, it got worse. When I would wake up in the morning, it seemed like getting out of bed was the hardest thing I would ever have to face. I stopped hanging out with my friends almost entirely and began attending my classes only sporadically. I began thinking about suicide often. I couldn’t get it out of my head. I would spend whole weekends cooped up in my dorm, exhausted but unable to sleep, while my roommates went home or hung out with friends. I was failing most of my classes. I knew something was wrong, but I refused to believe that anything I tried would pick me up out of the rut I was in.
So, I decided to end it. One night, while I was alone in the room, I prepared to kill myself. Everything was in place; I just had to do it. Then, I remembered that my roommates would be the ones to find me and that wasn’t fair to them. So, I waited.
While waiting for another chance to end it, I began to realize the world is a beautiful place. I just failed to notice. I decided, after much internal debate, to give it one more chance. There is so much life I hadn’t dealt with yet, and it seemed unfair to not give the future a chance.
I am so glad I didn’t give up. Things slowly started to get better. I attended club meetings on campus that dealt with positive self-image. It was hard, but I made myself go out more often, even though it was hard. Most of my friends knew something was up, and they were willing to take baby steps to help me feel better. I’m getting better grades and am active in a few extracurricular activities. My days aren’t all perfect, but no one’s are. I began to find joy in the little things, lunch with a friend, reading in the park or having coffee with my mom.
Everybody’s fighting some kind of battle; we just labor under the delusion that we’re alone and we have to keep it all inside. You aren’t alone, and you don’t have to keep it all inside. Trust me. Give life one more chance.