Just an essay I wrote for an LGBTQ scholarship. I felt pretty okay about this one considering I wrote it in one go after writing up three other essays.
(I got the scholarship by the way!)
Growing up, I had clinical depression that oftentimes affected my work and the way I interacted with others around me. When I could not find something to do, the depressive episodes set back in and have what my friends called “a stormy look” clouding over my eyes. After the first thought of suicide clouded my thoughts, I grew fearful and immediately told a teacher. This teacher eventually sent me to a counselor and since then, things began to lighten up. Another depressive episode set back in and the same things happened—I told an adult-figure, sent to the counselor and things seemed to lighten up again.
Rinse and repeat.
Eventually, the process was all too familiar, but instead of things lightening up, things grew worse. I began to feel so incredibly isolated in a group of people, and alone in a circle of friends. After telling my counselor and psychiatrist this, they recommended anti-depressants, but I refused. I felt like there was already something wrong with me—with my mother’s reaction to my sexuality, my poor grades during my junior year, and the feeling that my friends didn’t seem to care for my mental wellbeing. Taking medication would only prove to myself that there might actually be something wrong with me.
Soon enough, I set a date and made plans for my escape from life if things really did not lighten up. Of course, I have lived beyond that date and time because of another’s unwanted death. Growing up, I try to surround myself with positive people and Christine was one of those people. I was so incredibly jealous that someone like her could remain so positive in even the worst of times. Eventually this jealousy turned to admiration. Christine passed away unexpected to lupus and shocked so many of her family and friends. Saddened by this fact, I scrolled through post after post, message after message on her profile wishing her well, knowing that she is now in peace.
It was in that moment and instant when I realized that while I was contemplating on how to take my own life, there are many people like Christine who fights to stay alive. This hopelessness I previously felt was replaced with a new goal and motive—to help those around me realize what I have realized.
Although things seem to be dark and unforgiving, it will always lighten up in some way or form in the end. I believe that emotional states such as sadness are not permanent, but like sadness, happiness is not permanent either. I believe that it does get better and that life is a boundless cycle of hardship and recovery, but what matters most is the experience you take away from one cycle.
Like so, you rinse and repeat—an infinite cycle of life experiences that make up one person. I wish for people to learn and realize that they are not alone and have so many resources to help them get through, just like our GSA, we accept everyone and anyone ranging from different racial backgrounds, sexuality, gender-identity and even special education students.