Sadie L.

Photography by Mason Schlopy

If you're reading this, know that things will get better. 

I grew up in a small town in New Jersey, ten minutes from the George Washington Bridge. I have lived in the same house my whole life with a loving mom and dad, an older brother, and my perfect puppy, Charlie. I was a competitive dancer and cheerleader, and I did theater. My friends and teachers cared about me and wanted me to succeed. So, what did I have to be depressed about? My life seemed so picture-perfect.

When I started college in the fall of 2022, I was nervous but confident that I could handle it. I made friends, joined clubs, and found my place at this school. But as the semesters went on, I could feel myself slipping. My life lacked purpose; I didn't want to get out of bed, go out, or do anything. My room was a tornado. I noticed my migraines were getting worse, and I was constantly feeling sick. But why? Everything was going so well.

I ask myself the question of why all the time. If on the outside everything seems so great, why, on the inside, do I struggle to see the greatness in those things?

I have been talking to a therapist for as long as I can remember, as I have always dealt with anxiety, but in high school, it never got to this point. I didn't want to open up to her about this because I felt like everything seemed great on the outside, and the inside should feel that way, too. I was on medication for anxiety, but it did not seem to be doing much for me anymore. I still felt awful.

In the second semester of my sophomore year, I reached my lowest point. I was burnt out and tired. I had been putting myself through so many activities just to avoid being alone with my thoughts. Eventually, that backfired, making me feel worse and worse. My grades slipped, which I'm not proud of because I have always been a fairly good student.

I finally opened up to my therapist and told her how I had been feeling, and she validated me—and said to me that there isn't always an answer. Everything can be going great, but you still think this way, and that's okay. With her help as well as upping my dose of medication, I worked through it, eventually pulling myself out of the dark hole that I was in.

I am doing better now. I find joy in most things I do. I get out of bed. I clean my room (sometimes, being honest, I'm a messy gal). I cook for my roommate and I. I have friends and a boyfriend who I love. Everything's looking up. This does not mean that my life is perfect – sometimes I have moments where I feel as though I am slipping away, but I remind myself that things will get better, and will be looking up again. It is okay not to have an answer. Sometimes, things just happen, and you are not alone. Everything will be okay. 

Sadie L., Syracuse University

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