February 14th is the one day of the year where the majority of the earth's population despises or loves (pun intended). Cupid's arrow will pierce the rump of a hopeless romantic, and you'll swear you can see little pink hearts circling above their head like a Macbook Photo Booth filter. Next to them is a person who's the complete opposite. They're holding a large shield with a heart circled and crossed out that will block those same whizzing arrows. They want nothing to do with a stupid, winged baby with a weapon supposedly intended for love. That's not all; there is a third-party that consists of individuals who are troubled but in a different way. There's no Cupid or his arrows, not a filter in sight, no glints of romance and no hope in sight. Welcome to that Valentine's story. 

"February 14, 2019: I don't feel important, and that's all I want to be. I know people are frustrated at me because I'm frustrated at myself. I feel like an idiot, and I swear I cannot do anything right even if I tried..…" -An excerpt from my notes taken down in the evening of the same day.

My foreign language course was taking a toll on me physically and mentally. I would stay up at all times of the night; refrigerator always stocked with energy drinks to make sure I had every vocabulary word, grammar, and accent perfected before class. One Wednesday, we were required to hold a conversation entirely in the language we were, in front of the entire class with a partner. I pulled a proper all-nighter the night before, so I wouldn't I "make a complete fool out of myself." In a nutshell, the hours of preparation didn't help at all. Mainly because of very last-minute factors that were out of my control (I say this for clarification. I don't like to place blame on anyone else.) When I found out about these changes, a panic brewed within me that was so strong it took my breath away. I had never felt anything like it. I got out of my seat, walked straight out of the classroom without saying a word while trying to hold back my tears until I got to somewhere relatively private. I found a restroom and fell on my knees in front of a toilet on the disgusting, stained floor. I had never sobbed so hard in my life. I had never heard wails come out of someone's mouth, let alone my own. I don't know how long I was there but, at some point, I got up, went back to class without looking in the mirror, and managed my way through the presentation. 

Two hours and two classes after foreign language, my day was finally over. I kept thinking that if I took a nap or mindlessly watched a stupid movie, I could shake the aftermath of whatever attack I just had, which always works like a charm when I have moments of anxiety and need to reset, but that's far from what happened. This time it was too different, too intense. I paced around my room, sat on my bed, got back up again, walked around some more, and for an hour, that cycle continued. The whole time I kept overthinking the decisions I'd made so far in my academic career. Anxiety had been in my life for so long since I was 11-years-old, and as I got older, new struggles and trauma came along with it, then before I knew it everything began to morph into so much more and so much uglier and consuming. I was so deep in my depression that I didn't realize how bad it was or the fact that that's what it was in in the first place. These terrible, dark thoughts infiltrated my brain so often that it just became apart of my "regular" thought process. Still in my dorm, I was calm and stoic sat down at my desk just too numb, too sad, and done. I had to go to the medical crisis counselor at the university health center on campus because I was, for the first time, afraid of myself and the breaking point was all in the name of academic success and the mess it brings with it. 

Being college students, we often neglect our self-care because we're trying to balance everything important to us whether that is a social life, a relationship, keeping a healthy contact with family miles away, or all of the above. The addition of course work and the time it can take up can begin to affect you without notice. Don't ignore the signs of stress and becoming "burnt out." You know your body better than anyone else, so if something feels off or out of the ordinary in any way, take a weekend to restart. Working to get a steady pace of beneficial time management takes a lot of trial and error before you find it. 

Never be afraid of seeking help. Regardless of what you think, no one is judging you, and no one thinks you are weak. It takes a pretty incredible person to confront their problems head-on and take steps to work through them. Some cannot say the same, but you can. Don't let anyone belittle you and your experiences, especially after voluntarily deciding to open up to them. There have been too many times when an adult has said to me, "If you think college is this hard, wait until you get into the real world and you have a real job. You'll want to be in school then." Listen, Karen, I truly understand where you are coming from, but please stop. Your nonsense is not computing or helpful to me. I'm not afraid to say that I take prescription medication. In the beginning, I thought that when I take these pills, it's not genuinely my personality because the only way for me to function is if I'm "drugged up," but that's not the case. It's helping and improving my quality of life until I don't need them at all, which makes it all worthwhile. It's still a work in progress but let me tell you, I feel better than I have in a long time.