If you’re reading this, you are loved and supported.
I wish I could count how many times last year people would ask me why I left UMiami and transferred to Villanova. And yet every time someone would ask me I would say the exact same thing. First, I would laugh it off with a big smile on my face and then, I would make a joke somewhere along the lines of “ohhh I was either gonna fail myself out of there or I was gonna drink myself out of there so I just decided to leave.” The funny thing was, whether they knew me or not, every time they would laugh and agree with me. But I mean that was easier for me than telling them the truth right? That was easier for me than telling them that by February of my freshman year I had quit the team I had been recruited to play for because I was so depressed. That was easier for me than telling them that I stopped going out with my friends because all we did was go to frat pool parties wearing bikinis and sneakers and now I had to worry that someone might notice the scars on my thighs. That was easier than telling them that the real reason I left was because I had become terrified of the suicidal thoughts that haunted me as I laid awake each night, and even more horrified of the stranger who lived up inside my head.
I have gone back and forth on what happened to me at Miami. I spent the summer looking for answers I should’ve known I was never going to find. I remember doing the math in my head as I tried to equate having good friends, good grades, and good weather to this sense of automatic happiness. I had to learn the hard way that mental health just doesn’t work like that.
Last year, I chose to keep this dark side of me to myself because I didn’t want my mental health to define who I was at Villanova. This year, I chose to share it with as many people as I can, knowing all too well that I’m not the only person at this school right now who might silently struggle with anxiety and depression and I know now, that I can be the person I so desperately needed for myself when I was sitting right there in your position. I read in a book this summer that, “there has to come a point where we need to stop just pulling people out of the river– and instead we need to go upstream and find out why they’re falling in.” I might still not have the answer to that question, but I certainly know this:
If you’re reading this, had I only realized what wholehearted love and support I had right in front of me all along, I would have told someone sooner. And in turn, I would have saved myself a whole lot of the pain that I had burdened myself with alone for so long.
There were so many days I slapped a smile on my face and put on the facade of the happy and funny girl I thought everyone wanted me to be. As the shame in my struggles is finally replaced with compassion for myself, looking back I wish I hadn’t. But most of all, looking back I wish I had given myself the love that I refused to let anyone else give me. If the last two years have taught me anything, it is that there is so much strength in being vulnerable. That there is so much strength in being honest about how you feel, not just with your friends, your family, your teachers, but with yourself. You see, the crazy old thing about being honest about how you feel, is that sometimes when you’re honest with others, they are honest with you back. I am not alone and I never was.
“And my final piece of advice, for myself, and anyone willing to hear it is this, write your own story in a way that shows who you really are and make sure you get as many people as possible to read as much of it as they can. Because no matter how skilled a writer you are, you do not create meaning alone. We’re in this together. The meaning of life must be to share honestly with others, because that is the only way to give life any meaning. I love you.” - Emelia Worth, 1998-2017, Kent Class of 2017
Caitlin M., Villanova University ‘23
