I lay in bed for a long time this morning, trying to picture how to tell my story and how it should read. So many questions ran through my head: How much should I share? Should I tell everything? What will people say? Why am I doing this now? Would it be easier to forget and just carry on? After thinking it over, I decided to tell as much of the truth as I can. I hope the response is a high-five, a hug, or a “way to go!”—but mostly I’m doing this for myself and for anyone else who struggles with mental health and keeps quiet about it. Mental health deserves to be talked about openly and without shame.
The Story
—-Before—-
I suspect my depression began as early as second grade. My family moved from San Francisco to Atlanta, and I resisted everything about the change. I didn’t want to go to school or to swim; I threw tantrums and felt emotionally up and down. About a year and a half later we moved to Milwaukee, and in third grade I fit in much better. My mood improved and I returned to the happy, outgoing kid I remembered. It’s strange to describe children as experiencing anxiety, but I can clearly remember those early feelings of unease.
Me (4) and Sister (5)
Fast forward to middle school and high school. Like many people, I had awkward and painful experiences, but for me those years were especially difficult. I felt singled out—picked on, scrutinized, lied to, and ridiculed. I often believed I was the friend everyone secretly disliked. I tried to be someone I wasn’t and tried to fit into groups that didn’t reflect who I truly was. At home I was often distant from my parents and my sister. I wouldn’t label myself depressed in high school, but I was not happy. I blamed myself for not “fitting in” and wondered why people didn’t adore me. Looking back, I see a young woman desperately seeking approval and acceptance.
By my sophomore year I started channeling energy into things that made me feel better—schoolwork, student activities, art, and sports. I began to distance myself from people who weren’t genuine and spent more time with friends who mattered. Many of my close friends at the time were male, with only a few female friends. Playing varsity sports with teammates I didn’t fully trust felt isolating. I was often guarded around other girls. It’s remarkable to me now how much strength and support I find in the community of women in my life today. In high school I also experienced deep moments of camaraderie and joy, but I rarely felt fully secure in my friendships or confident that those connections would last.
Despite the hard moments, I genuinely enjoyed high school on the surface. I was active in my school community, played sports, attended events, and came home to a busy house. I have many fond memories with friends like Kelsey, Amanda, Matt, Alex, Lauren, Mark, Austin, Doug, and Marla. Those experiences brought light into my life even when I struggled privately.
I want to make one thing clear: my eating disorder and long-term depression did not begin overnight. They grew out of years of not truly knowing or accepting myself and from an ongoing struggle to feel confident in who I was and who I wanted to be.
—-College—-
My deeper depression began the summer after my freshman year of college. I fell for someone in my dorm who I really cared about, only to discover later that he had a girlfriend at another school. I felt betrayed and devastated. I had invested time and emotion in someone who wasn’t honest with me, and that hurt left me deflated. That summer I stayed at home in Milwaukee, feeling unmotivated and withdrawn, and I gained some weight. I blamed myself for letting it happen.
Heading into my sophomore year, I wanted a fresh start. I moved into a house with five other girls, many of whom embraced the typical college social scene. I wasn’t into partying, and the mismatch between my state of mind and their lifestyle made things harder. That year I had one friend who truly supported me—Sam. She helped me rediscover some self-acceptance and taught me to appreciate my body and myself. Sam felt like a sister: genuine, joyful, and steady. Her energy helped pull me back from slipping further into a depressive state.
Through that friendship I learned the value of loyalty and the importance of investing in relationships built on trust. Sam eventually transferred schools, and when she left I felt very alone again. That loss reinforced how much I needed close, reliable friendships to protect my mental health.
I’m sharing these memories not to dwell on pain, but to be honest about how long and complex the path has been. These early experiences laid the foundation for struggles that followed, but they also taught me lessons about resilience, self-awareness, and the importance of supportive relationships.
to be continued…