If you’re reading this, you deserve to be here.
My story will deal with mentions of self harm, suicide ideation, and some internal thoughts during the time, so if that is triggering or otherwise, please take the necessary precautions.
Hello all, my name is Colleen Diep, I am currently a sociology major at Virginia Commonwealth University. I am a freshman and this is my first semester here at VCU. My story will deal with my personal journey through mental health, from the beginning, its obstacles and tribulations, and how I grew from this journey.
When I was younger, my path seemed so straightforward; I was to graduate high school, then graduate college, then live my life and have a family. Back in 2018 is when my parents got divorced; it was overall a terrible time. I felt as if one family became two. After the divorce, my path was no longer so straightforward, I was lost in this new world of fighting parents, divorce procedures, and a new overwhelming sense of dread. High school graduation seemed like a pipe dream. College was an even bigger dream. I felt as if everything was my fault. That if things were done better or done differently I would have made a difference. I ultimately took the blame for everything that happened and it was suffocating. For a time, it felt like I was drowning, drowning in a sea of sadness and self-deprecation. I was moving houses every single week. If any of you here have lived with divorced parents, I’m sure many of you know how defeating it is to essentially be living out of a suitcase and moving from house to house so constantly.
For so long, I saw mental health as something that didn’t matter. With me being born male, I felt as if my experience was not valid or that my problems didn’t matter to others. I was supposed to be strong; resilient. After all, men are supposed to be strong, right? It was this way of thinking that made me disregard my health both physically and mentally for around 2 and a half years. Many people told me to get professional help. My friends, and even my divorced parents. When my parents agreed that I needed to see a mental health professional, I disregarded it as a silly notion. I always said, “I don’t need help, I can deal with this alone. It’s not like there was a big problem anyways”. When deep down I knew that I couldn’t really get through this with just willpower.
It was this way of thinking that led me to self-harm in February of 2021. Quarantine was not an easy thing for anybody; for me, it was difficult because being stuck at home made me feel trapped. Being “trapped” with my family made the emotions I talked about before much more intense. It was around February when I started to drive off into a parking lot and self-harm without my parent’s knowledge. It was a terrifying experience that no one should have to go through.
Fast forward to June, and I was still self harming. I am also ashamed to admit that I planned to commit suicide on my 18th birthday, June 4th. I felt as if everything was my fault and that the world would have been better without me. I felt as if I had no future. I felt...lost. When the day came, I was too busy to actually…follow through with it. I’m ashamed to say that I felt disappointed that I did not follow through with my plan. This was when I made a decision that ultimately got me here today.
I realized that if I were to continue down this path, I would have ended up in a much darker place. So, the day afterward, June 5th, I embraced being alive. Ultimately, I told the truth to my family, and both my parents were heartbroken, yes. But they were happy that I was willing to get the help, happy that I made the right decision, and happy that I was just alive.
After long talks with my family and others who are close to me, I made the best decision of my life. I decided to get help. I realized that I had a problem and that I did not have to face it alone. I had support systems ready for me at all times, but it was up to me to reach out and get the help I needed.
Today is November 16th, and I have been in therapy for months, and I have been alive for 18 years and counting. I am proud to say that I am doing much better. I learned that not everything has to be perfect and that not everything is my fault. I regret the decisions I have made, but am also secure enough to recognize that I didn’t deserve to harm myself. The mental health journey is just that; a journey. It’s never ending, and there is no set destination. Although I don’t like to recognize it sometimes, the truth is that stress is always never ending. There will always be stressors in your life, whether that be with family, friends, or otherwise, but you don’t have to go through it alone; hell, you aren’t alone in these types of situations. I want to prove that nobody is alone in the mental health journey and that help is always there if you need it. This is why I am talking to you all today.
My story is not easy to talk about, and I’m sure that for some, it’s even harder to hear. If you are reading this, know that there is a need to end the idea that gender is a factor in whether or not to seek professional mental help. If you are reading this, know that we need to end the idea that mental health is not valid and that it’s worthless. If you are reading this, as the future of America, we need to teach our peers and the next generation that mental health is just as vital as physical health. You deserve love, respect, and the power to not just survive, but the ability to live and thrive. So if you are reading this…live on.
Colleen D., Virginia Commonwealth University ‘26
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