beyond the green: collective of middlebury voices

a student-run publication that seeks to provide space for voices that are not being heard on our campus. we are grounded by politics that are radical, anti-racist, anti-sexist, anti-classist, anti-homophobic, anti-ableist, and anti-transphobic (against all forms of oppression) and that reject the structural neo-liberal paradigm that characterizes middlebury college and its official publications

Maybe each time I pushed away things that bothered me (the racist comments, broken friendships, the feeling of abandonment), I was shoveling dirt over my shoulder.

What Now? I just can’t figure it out…

I was never a person who gave much thought to mental health. I was never a person who showed emotions all that easily, and it was rare for me to cry. I always prided myself on being an independent person who didn’t need people’s help: “I can do bad all by myself,” I’d think.

That started to change when I realized that I might not be able to rely on myself. I don’t know where it came from, but suddenly, the me I thought I knew was different. Something was off, something was wrong.

I can’t say I know what it is, though. I’m scared that I feel like I no longer have control over my emotions, how I’ll go from feeling sad to just feeling nothing. I don’t always know why I’m crying, or why it drains me of energy to do the little things, or why the dining hall crowds are suddenly overwhelming, or why I can’t focus on schoolwork, or why I’m always forgetting things. I don’t always know who I can turn to anymore. I don’t know whether I want to be alone or if I fear loneliness. I constantly wonder how long it will take for a good feeling to fade away and be overtaken by a bad one again, because it’s all just a matter of time…

Maybe each time I pushed away things that bothered me (the racist comments, broken friendships, the feeling of abandonment), I was shoveling dirt over my shoulder. Putting these problems behind me with each toss and thud. But now, it seems that I’ve dug a nice hole for myself. Empty, yet filled with unknowns and self-doubt.

But who could see that just by looking at me, especially if I didn’t even see it coming? I realize now that my default response to “How was your day?” is to laugh nervously and say, “Well, it was a day.” Because if your reply to “How are you?” isn’t “Good, how are you?” then they ask you what’s wrong. So, of course, you say that you’re fine, just tired. Or just getting over a cold. Or that you just woke up from a nap, which would be completely false because falling asleep has become something harder and harder to do. But you can’t just say you think you might have depression.

Except for maybe here.

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This entry was posted on February 3, 2014 by in Mental Health and tagged .
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