Lauren C.
Photography by Ally Szabo
Please note: In this letter, I discuss my experience with suicidal ideation. There is also mention of an eating disorder. If you believe this topic will be triggering for you, I encourage you to take care of yourself and be prepared to access any resources you may need. The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline is available 24/7 at 988 or suicidepreventionlifeline.org.
If you’re reading this, know that vulnerability is not a weakness.
“How are you?”
This seems like a simple question, but to me, it caused a mental battle of whether I should tell people how I really feel or if I should take the easy way out and say, “I’m fine” or “I’m just tired.” I’ve avoided that question so many times that the easy answer became a reflex for me because I didn’t want to become a burden to others.
I was diagnosed with depression, anxiety, and anorexia when I was 14. I had feelings of nothingness, no happiness, sadness, stress, or enjoyment. I would self-harm to feel something and stop eating to have some control over my seemingly chaotic life. I wore baggy clothes to hide my deteriorating body and bracelets to cover my scars. Yet, I still had good grades and smiled whenever I talked to someone.
My recovery consisted of weekly appointments with my nutritionist, therapist, and psychiatrist, family-oriented treatment for my anorexia, and medication. But no one told me how hard recovery would be. I assumed that I would follow what my doctors told me and I would get better. However, I didn’t anticipate the hours at the dinner table, the constant drives from appointment to appointment, or how scared I would feel opening up to the people closest to me. I was never one to talk about my feelings, so the first few appointments I had, I sat in almost dead silence. I felt like I had to mask what I was feeling to speed up the recovery process.
After years of intensive recovery, everything seemed to go back to normal. I graduated high school, got into my dream college, and made some of my best friends.
However, I never really lost those feelings of nothingness. At the beginning of college, I was thrown into a nonstop routine, and I never took the time to realize how much of a toll that fast-paced life took on me. Everything in my life piled up to a point where I felt like I had no way out except to end my life and relieve others of the burden I thought I was.
On January 14, I tried to take my own life. I’ve been asked numerous times what I felt the morning of my attempt, but I honestly still can’t put it into words. So, it became another instance of telling people that it was just a mistake and I was fine.
After my attempt, I was admitted to a behavioral hospital which was one of the scariest yet most rewarding experiences. I entered the hospital crying harder than I thought was even possible and isolating myself out of embarrassment. Once I fully invested myself into treatment there, I left feeling ready to get back into the world and start my life again.
I learned the importance of vulnerability, which is essential to growth and healing. In the hospital, not only were others vulnerable to me, but I was vulnerable to them. I finally felt the healing of my treatment through the relationships I gained from opening up. By exposing my true self, I felt safe, supported, and heard. And by hearing others open up, I learned from their experiences and felt less alone in my recovery. I’m still working on opening up more as I still get the fear of making situations uncomfortable. But I’ve come a long way from my 14-year-old self, and the seemingly small progress is monumental for me.
This letter is me being vulnerable with the hopes of showing you that you are not alone in your battle.
Lauren C., Villanova University
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