This morning, as I lay in bed, my thoughts drifted, contemplating how to articulate a deeply personal narrative. The weight of sharing such an intimate part of my life brought forth a torrent of questions: How much detail should I reveal? Is complete transparency necessary? What kind of reception can I expect? Why embark on this emotional unveiling, rather than simply letting the past remain in the past?
After much internal deliberation, I’ve resolved to share my complete journey, encompassing as much as I feel comfortable disclosing. My hope isn’t for pity, but for connection – perhaps a nod of understanding, a comforting embrace, or even an encouraging “you’re doing great!” This endeavor is fundamentally for myself, as a therapeutic act of self-expression, but it is also profoundly for you, the reader. In a world where countless individuals silently battle mental health issues, a pervasive stigma often prevents honest dialogue. It’s imperative that we foster an environment where speaking openly about our struggles is not just accepted, but actively encouraged and embraced. My intention is not to convey negativity; in fact, I feel incredibly grounded and content in my life currently. Rather, this is an act of vulnerability, a decision to open up about my personal mental health journey because, paradoxically, the more I share, the more liberated and whole I feel. This candid account will unfold in three distinct parts, chronicling my path to understanding and healing. And so, here we begin…
My Mental Health Journey: The Beginning
—Childhood and Early Adolescence—
Looking back, I strongly suspect that the seeds of my depression were sown remarkably early, perhaps as far back as second grade. This period coincided with a significant family relocation from the vibrant streets of San Francisco to the unfamiliar landscape of Atlanta. The transition was jarring, and I found myself vehemently resisting every aspect of my new life. School felt like an insurmountable hurdle, and even simple activities like swimming triggered intense emotional outbursts. My mood was a turbulent sea, constantly shifting between highs and debilitating lows. It was a challenging time for a young child to navigate. Roughly eighteen months later, another move brought us to Milwaukee. Surprisingly, this adjustment was smoother; I integrated effortlessly into third grade, and my spirits soared. I rediscovered the happy-go-lucky Lee I remembered being, a stark contrast to my previous disposition. It might seem unusual to attribute complex emotional states like anxiety to a child, but I distinctly recall experiencing palpable anxiety as an adolescent, a pervasive sense of unease that lingered beneath the surface.
Me (4) and Sister (5)
Let’s fast forward a few years to my Middle School and High School years. While everyone experiences awkward phases during these formative times, for me, this period was genuinely fraught with difficulty. I often felt like I was singularly chosen to be the target of teasing, relentless scrutiny, manipulation, and ridicule. It was that unsettling sensation of being the friend in the group whom everyone secretly dislikes – a feeling that resonated deeply within me. I vividly remember trying desperately to embody a persona that wasn’t authentically mine, striving to belong to a crowd that was fundamentally incompatible with my true self. This internal struggle manifested outwardly as well; I was often unkind to my parents, and my relationship with my sister was distant and strained. During high school, I wouldn’t necessarily describe myself as clinically depressed, but rather profoundly unhappy. I internalized the blame for my inability to “fit in,” which severely eroded my self-esteem. I couldn’t comprehend why I wasn’t universally adored. In retrospect, I see a young girl driven by an intense, almost desperate yearning for external validation and acceptance.
By my sophomore year of high school, a crucial shift began to occur. I consciously redirected my energy towards activities that genuinely brought me joy and a sense of accomplishment. Academics became a significant focus, as did my involvement in the student union, various art forms, and competitive sports. This strategic realignment allowed me to gradually distance myself from those who proved to be disingenuous, and instead, I invested my time and emotional energy in relationships with people who offered genuine connection. My circle of close friends at this time consisted primarily of males, complemented by a select few female confidantes. The inherent challenges of playing varsity sports alongside teammates I couldn’t fully trust were immense. I constantly felt a need to be on guard, particularly around other females, a sentiment that feels profoundly illuminating to me now. It’s fascinating because today, I draw immense strength and unwavering support from the incredible community of women in my life. While high school certainly gifted me with moments of profound camaraderie and exhilarating happiness, I never truly felt 100% comfortable or secure in the longevity of my personal friendships, a lingering uncertainty that colored many of my interactions.
While I’ve just recounted some of the more challenging aspects of my high school experience, it’s equally important to emphasize that I genuinely, deeply enjoyed high school and presented a remarkably happy facade to the world. I was extensively involved in my school’s vibrant community, participating in countless activities and leadership roles. Many cherished memories stem from those years: the thrill of competing alongside my teammates, the constant buzz of attending school functions, the electrifying energy of cheering at sporting events, and returning home to a house consistently filled with laughter, activity, and a multitude of people. Despite the underlying struggles, I forged strong bonds with several wonderful friends, including Kelsey, Amanda, Matt, Alex, Lauren, Mark, Austin, Doug, and Marla, with whom I shared countless positive and formative experiences.
This glimpse into “pre-college Lee” is vital for understanding the deeper roots of my struggles. My journey with both an eating disorder and depression isn’t a recent development, nor did it manifest suddenly. It was the culmination of years – a slow, insidious build-up stemming from a fundamental lack of self-awareness and a profound absence of genuine confidence in who I was and who I aspired to become. These early experiences laid the groundwork for the more pronounced challenges that would emerge in later years, demonstrating that mental health struggles often have long, complex histories that begin much earlier than we realize.
—The College Years: New Challenges and Self-Discovery—
The summer following my freshman year of college marked a distinct downturn, ushering in a more intense phase of my depression. I had met someone in my dorm who I instantly adored, and we spent a significant amount of time together, building what I believed to be a meaningful connection. The abrupt and painful truth, however, was that he had a long-term girlfriend attending a different school throughout our entire acquaintance. The revelation was devastating. I felt an overwhelming sense of betrayal and profound shame. The thought of inflicting such pain on another person was abhorrent to me. This discovery left me intensely frustrated with myself for having poured so much time, emotional energy, and trust into someone so fundamentally dishonest. Following that tumultuous school year, my summer at home in Milwaukee became a period of profound listlessness. I found myself slugging through each day, devoid of motivation or purpose. During this difficult time, I also experienced a noticeable weight gain, which further exacerbated my burgeoning body image issues.
Self-blame became a dominant theme that summer, as I agonizingly scrutinized every interaction and decision. With the return to college for my sophomore year, I was determined to forge a fresh start, a clean slate. Yet, despite my best intentions, my depression persisted, as did my deepening dissatisfaction with my body. That year, I lived in a house with five other girls. Unlike my housemates, who were typical college girls embracing the vibrant social scene and frequent parties – a lifestyle I’ve never truly gravitated towards – I was navigating a particularly difficult period in my life where “normal” social engagement simply wasn’t an option. Amidst this challenging environment, I found solace and an indispensable ally in one true friend, Sam. She became a beacon of light, instrumental in helping me cultivate a healthier relationship with my body and, crucially, with myself. I leaned on her immensely, often relying on her wisdom and unwavering support. She became like the sister I longed for, especially since my own sister was studying abroad in Cape Town at the time. Sam embodied self-love and an infectious zest for life, her positive energy a constant bulwark against the depressive state that threatened to consume me.
Sam and I at her brother’s wedding
It was during this transformative period, shaped significantly by my friendship with Sam, that I began to truly understand and internalize the profound importance of loyalty. I aspired to be a committed, thoughtful, and trustworthy friend, recognizing the vital role that genuine, close relationships play in one’s emotional well-being. I learned to truly value having friends in whom I could implicitly trust, friends with whom I could openly share my vulnerabilities and into whom I could wholeheartedly invest my time and energy. Sam exemplified these qualities; her authenticity and joyous spirit were incredibly inspiring. I remain immensely grateful to have crossed paths with her, as she served as a powerful reminder that striving for such positive energy and graceful living is a deeply worthwhile pursuit. Sadly, the following year, Sam transferred to a different school. Her departure left a significant void, and it was at this juncture that I truly felt a profound and isolating sense of being alone, marking another turning point in my ongoing journey of self-discovery and emotional resilience.
To be continued…