Girling

TW: Suicidal thoughts/ideation, eating disorder, self harm

Another guest article! This one by Cara Korn. Cara is a dedicated event manager, a world-traveler, a sports fanatic, a passionate friend, and a survivor.

As someone in their mid- to late-twenties, I have unfortunately been dealing with mental illness for over half my life. I was first diagnosed with depression when I was 12. Yes, you read that right. I was the only sixth grader I knew who was popping antidepressants every morning before school, and seeing a psychiatrist relatively regularly. Some lesser-known symptoms of depression are irritability and acting out. At school, I was relatively fine, but at home, I was defensive and argumentative with my parents and siblings. This prompted my parents to find me a therapist who, with the help of a psychiatrist, ultimately diagnosed me with clinical depression. 

My parents saw an improvement over the first couple of years. Thinking I was all better, they took me off my meds and I stopped seeing a mental health professional. However, now a sophomore in high school, I fell back into the same pattern of behavior, but a little worse. The summer between my sophomore and junior year, I was taken to another psychiatrist. This time, along with clinical depression, I was diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder and ADHD. I went back on antidepressants and started taking a stimulant to control my moderate to severe ADHD. My grades improved and I was no longer starting screaming matches with my family over things that were, really, quite trivial. I appeared to be doing much better. 

I appeared to be doing much better.

Fast forward to college- I was doing great. I got involved in Greek life, made friends, and even had a boyfriend for a few months. I was still taking medication daily and speaking with my psychiatrist relatively frequently. On the outside, everything was going well for me. Depression, however, has a funny way of rearing its ugly head, and my brain was still fighting the chemical imbalance that causes it. When I graduated, I moved back home for my dream internship. I made more friends, was working long hours, and wasn’t home too often. Seemingly, I was as happy as ever. 

This all came to a halt with the eruption of COVID-19. My twin sister moved home and my internship was effectively over. I was stuck at home in my parents’ recently-downsized home which was not intended to house our whole family for more than a weekend at a time. The close quarters often got the best of me, and I was not handling it well. Eventually, I snapped.

Eventually, I snapped.

One day in early May, I was having an argument with my sister which wouldn’t’ve been abnormal but this one escalated. We were meant to be sharing a bedroom, but ended up switching who got the privacy. And like many fights with siblings, this one was about whose turn it was. My parents heard us yelling and came into our bedroom. 

The next few minutes are honestly a bit of a blur. I remember telling my mom that the bedroom was the only place where I felt like I didn’t need to pretend. Naturally, she asked what I meant. The next thing I remember is being on the floor in a fetal position rocking back and forth and crying. What I had failed to mention to my parents, my friends, my siblings, my psychiatrist, and now you as the reader, is that I was very much not okay. 

Sometime during my junior year of college, my depression sprung back up, worse than ever. My years in high school theatre paid off and I convinced everyone that I was great. I was presenting as a very smiley and happy person with great internships and new friends. 

Not a single person in my life had any idea what was going on until I spat out the truth.

The ugly truth is that I was very easily sent into a spiral. I was having suicidal ideations and thoughts multiple times a week (usually every day) and self harming weekly. I found myself eating less and less and obsessively going to the gym. Every morning, I’d wish I’d never woken up. Not a single person in my life had any idea what was going on until I spat out the truth.

I ended up telling my family everything that night. How I wished I was dead, how I was self harming, and how I was often eating so little I would get lightheaded by the end of the day. Having to tell my parents that their seemingly happy little girl was actually miserable nearly every day for the past few years was not easy. I cried, my mom cried, and I think my sister might have as well. Despite me begging my mom to not call my psychiatrist, she did, and the next day I had to rehash every detail to him. I felt so guilty for lying to him all those years, and apologized profusely. Thankfully, I ended up asking for more help, and admitted that I needed to be put in treatment.  

By mid-May, my parents dropped me off at a facility not far from home, for an 8-week stay. The first month was inpatient and the second was outpatient, although I still lived in a facility-run property to continue my growth and healing. 

Personally, I LOVED treatment. I was mostly with people who were all struggling substance abusers, but they all had the same God-awful depression that I did. They just chose substances to numb the pain. There was group therapy (both girls-only and mixed gender), individual therapy (duh), art therapy, you name it. I even did group therapy with my sister to hash out our long-standing issues.  We also were taken on little trips every week to get out of our own heads. I was prescribed an additional daily antidepressant and in eight short weeks, I was released back to my parents. I was much, much better. Contrary to popular belief though, I was not, and am not, cured.

Mental illnesses like depression are a lifelong battle.

Mental illnesses like depression are a lifelong battle. Knowing myself, I will likely be medicated for a long time, if not my whole life. Thanks to my treatment center, however, I am able to handle myself much better than before. I don’t spiral as frequently; I’m honest with my friends, family, and therapist; and to date, I am self harm free for 2 years, 8 months, and 10 days. I can usually talk myself down or out of a dark space. 

This is not to say that I never have bad days anymore. The difference is, I don’t let it consume me. Sure I struggle, but I know it’s only temporary and things will soon be looking up.

I know it’s only temporary and things will soon be looking up.

So why am I putting this on the internet for strangers to read? Well, for one, I am not the least bit shy about discussing this, mainly because I’m passionate about changing the stigma and negativity surrounding mental health and mental illness. Being depressed is not something to be ashamed of, people! It’s a chemical imbalance in your brain that you have little-to-no control over. If you were to get sick or break a bone, you’d presumably go to a doctor to be looked at and helped. Mental illnesses should be no different.  

What I want you, dear reader, to take from this is that it’s okay to ask for help. By hiding how you truly feel, it’s only going to get worse and could result in a breakdown similar to the one I had. Talk to a friend, a trusted family member, or, if financially able, a licensed therapist. I can safely and confidently say that my breakdown was the best thing that could’ve happened to me, because it pushed me to seek the help I so desperately needed. If you are struggling, please know you’re not alone. The world is a better place with you in it, and one day, you’ll be able to say that your mental illness didn’t get the best of you. There is so much life to live, and you are loved.

If you or a loved one is struggling with mental illness, please take advantage of the following resources (US only):

• National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI)
  • Call (Mon-Fri, 10a-10p EST): 1-800-950-NAMI (6264)
  • Text “HelpLine” to 62640
  • Email: helpline@nami.org 
  • Chat: nami.org/help
• Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA)
  • National Helpline (24/7): 1-800-662-HELP (4357)
  • Online Treatment Locator
• National Suicide and Crisis Lifeline (24/7)
  • Call or Text: 988
  • Chat: 988lifeline.org
• Emergency Medical Services
  • Call: 911

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