“Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming ‘Wow! What a ride!’”
I’ve been making some big changes in my life this year. Back in December, a couple of massive life events sent me spiraling. The death of a dear friend and the loss of a keystone relationship were the crux of what had been a several month uphill battle with some of the worst anxiety and depression of my life, and I got knocked down harder than I have in years. I’m a firm believer in “fake it til you make it,” so for the last 4 months I’ve been doing my best to act like I have my act together, in desperate hopes that it would actually come together. That’s not to say that the joy I’ve been exuding in the last 4 months hasn’t been real - just that there’s a lot more to my life than that and I still am fighting my own brain and body every single day.
But what I’m most proud of, and what I want to talk about, is that I’m winning this fight.
My mental illness wants to take everything from me. It wants to take my academic success, my career dreams, my physical health, my relationships, my happiness. And it tries, and it is strong. But I am stronger, and when I am not, my support system is. I have safeguarded myself with medications that work well, doctors that want me to be holistically healthy, physical practices that strengthen my body and mind, parents and friends and a roommate and an advisor who look after me and know when things aren’t great, and who are patient with me but still firm and helpful and push me to get back on track.
I have not sat idly by and let the storm throw me around. I have spent every day struggling to build shelter. I am bruised and I am dirty and I am soaking wet but I am seeing that this work has not been in vain, and that it is possible for me to remain safe and dry next time the storm comes.
I finally feel like the storm is passing and the fog is lifting. My work is paying off, and although it’s not done, and it will never be done, it doesn’t feel so much like work anymore. It just feels like life, and life is hard and weird but life is good. I am proud of my big, weird, messy life. I am proud of my failures because they did not stop me. I am proud of myself.

















