Dear Reader,
Katie’s letter includes experiences of domestic violence, sexual assault, suicide attempt, suicidal ideation, and an eating disorder. We advise those who may be triggered by these topics to exercise caution when reading this letter.
Sincerely, the IfYou’reReadingThis Team
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If you’re reading this, know that it’s okay not to feel okay.
Sometimes we can find ourselves going day by day while life throws another obstacle in our path. Maybe half the time we are fortunate to only have to experience one struggle at a time, but sometimes they pile up until we feel like we are drowning with no way out. Some days we wake up and for a moment can smile until we remember who we are, or what we are going through. At times it all gets so overwhelming that feeling okay does not feel okay, and we can’t brandish a smile, or pretend that it doesn’t hurt.
Growing up I never knew what a “normal” standard for a family was. When I was younger my mom stayed at home while my dad went to work. I know this is a normal family dynamic, and my mom tried her best; to this day I know she loved me to the best of her ability. Like all parents, my dad loved my mom a lot, and he showed our family that when he proposed. I was about seven when my parents finally got married. It had been a struggle that they were wanting to make work for me. I remember a few months later my mom was not home, and I did not understand why. I had never seen my dad cry until then.
My father and I did not have the greatest relationship, and I did not understand the aspects of what was going on. It took a bit for me to realize my mom had left my dad for the best man from their wedding. My mom told me stories of my dad cheating and abusing her, which got so bad to the point that she was asking me if I remembered instances that she claimed my dad had abused her and me, but none of them had ever occurred. My dad gained custody of me a short time after when he started to build a new family of his own, which was really hard because my mom was telling me how awful he was, combined with the shock of two younger siblings and a new “mother figure.” My mom’s boyfriend became abusive, and no matter what he did to his children, myself, or my mom, she couldn’t leave. This led to me getting a restraining order against him when I was only eight.
My mom went on to start a new family without me because I didn’t want to live with her. I felt abandoned and unwanted by the person I cared for most. My mother faded away in my life and went from my greatest friend to a lost connection. I couldn’t understand these feelings, and when I became a teenager I kept falling into a seemingly existential crisis that I wasn’t wanted and I didn't deserve to be. Resent toward my mother only turned into grief and a desire for attention to fill the places that felt empty.
When I moved to college I lived in a large dorm room all alone not knowing anyone around me. I saw college as a fresh start. I tried really hard and got all As for midterms, but I couldn't help but want to go out and party and socialize to distract myself. I craved the male attention and affirmation that I would receive.
My resort to unhealthy behaviors was going great until one party that I attended with a group of friends. The party ended up getting shut down and everyone left abruptly. I didn’t have my phone, so I went with someone I thought I could trust. This was another instance where I had too much to drink to think or function properly. The next thing I knew, one thing led to another, and it isn’t something I would let myself do if I had control. I remember asking him to stop several times because I didn’t want to do this anymore, and I started to feel sick to my stomach, but he wouldn’t stop. I couldn’t consent to what was happening. I don’t think he ever acknowledged how he could have hurt me. Sometimes it is hard to tell myself that it wasn’t my fault because I decided to drink more than I could handle.
I came to an acceptance that the only exception of someone wanting me was for my body. I had felt used and shameful for allowing this to happen. Any compassion toward myself had faded away with my self-worth. I slipped into a depressive state and it was evident in my grades. I resorted to drinking on weekdays and excessively partying. I needed help, but I didn’t want it. I started acting very harmful to myself and purging because I felt like no one could love me the way I was. I wanted to be wanted.
I will admit, if it weren’t for the compassion and patience of friends and the reflection of myself, I wouldn’t be writing this letter. I didn’t understand mental health awareness far past when I needed to, but it has helped me understand my mom. Growing up with a parent that has mental health issues was hard on top of my own. Once I got older I learned that my mother had attempted suicide by overdosing on drugs. I know this was her way of trying to escape her own pain, and I can’t hold that against her no matter how much she hurt me. The resentment I had toward her only brought me pain. It took time to understand that I can’t change the things that happened and that moving forward and finding love in myself without the affirmation of others was the only way I could ever be happy.
Once I started focusing more on loving myself than trying to be the person I thought people wanted, I have grown significantly. I started doing better in school and got my GPA up by nearly .5, the suicidal ideations faded away, and I stopped purging myself. I have taken this opportunity of change to help other people and become a crisis counselor. I understand it can be hard to feel okay, but feeling not okay is okay. Sometimes you have to give yourself time and faith to heal and grow.
Katie A., Washington State University ‘24
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