This is why I got help

I’m going to warn you that I will be explicit right now. This is the story of the time I gained self-confidence, lost it, and gained it again. This cycle repeats itself countless times so we’ll just jump to me being 11. Oddly, that’s when I had my first “boyfriend.” It was middle school. So if you ask me now I will deny ever having a boyfriend before the age of 15, but honest to Buddha that’s when it all started. We were on-again-off again, whatever that means, through about 12. Being an angsty pre-teen white girl going to private school has its disadvantages, I suppose. So being romantically attached combined with a few mean girls, my confidence I had experienced my entire life was shot down.

That’s all boring. So let’s jump now to when I was 18. I had recovered from my white-girl self-loathing to be a relatively happy teenager. Sure, I was moody and wanted to live for some time like I was on my Super Sweet 16, but I got over that pretty quickly. Then around the time when I turned 18 it all went downhill. I was in college and hiding the fact that I was the most uncomfortable I had ever been living in the dorms at a school where I knew like 1 person. I was used to being well known and moderately well liked and having to do that all over again on top of learn actual useful knowledge was exhausting. I went through a lot of crap that year and that year was simultaneously the best and worst thing that ever happened to me.

I barely made it out. Okay that’s being a bit dramatic; let me dial it back a bit. I barely made it out, emotionally. I was an absolute wreck. And you probably guessed it. It was because of events that transpired with a boy. How foolish of me. I risked my mental and physical well-being for a guy that I don’t even currently know anything about anymore. For a short while, he ruined me. And then a year later something magical happened.

You see, I said I was mentally and physically done. Seriously, I had lost so much weight and was such a mess that I’m sure given not too much time, I would’ve ended up in the hospital. OH WAIT I DID. I was on a downward spiral that I could predict ending badly and had already damaged myself pretty badly. So yeah. That’s how that went. But I decided for many reasons to leave that school (I wrote about it awhile back). And taking some time to myself was the best decision ever. And one day, when I was sad and reflecting on everything, I felt like I needed to prove something to myself.

I decided to get healthier, and I did. But did I mention I never knew how to sallow pills? I knew I needed to be on an anti-depressant, but they could never work just right because I always had to crush them. So one night I took the initiative. I told myself I would learn how to properly sallow pills and I did. And in getting healthier and exercising and all that jazz, I gained weight and looked healthy for once. And in doing so I actually got a rockin’ bod in the process (my flat-chested friends, there is always hope). 

So yes, I was down for a while. I was so sad over things that I probably shouldn’t have been sad about. But isn’t that always the case? I implore anyone who is sad that getting help should never take as much effort as I made it. If you need to be on anti-depressants, that doesn’t make you weak. I feel a bajilion times better now and I’m still on them. It’s okay. I also sought the help of a professional and spoke to someone about everything that happened. It helped me to come to terms with a lot. Moral of the story is don’t let stupid boys (or girls) dictate your self-confidence. You are beautiful and you are unique and no one can rob you of that truth. I just had to learn that the hard way.