Mara just graduated from East Lyme High School and is headed to the Gabelli School of Business at Fordham University. She shares that she is “over the top excited to be in Lincoln Center and Manhattan!” But life has not always been this happy and hopeful. Mara bravely shares her story:
Growing up, my family had such high standards for me. Both of my parents immigrated from communist Romania in the early 90s and they pushed me beyond my limits. This environment led me to overwork and push myself, more than my parents wanted me to. I became a perfectionist, setting a plan for my future and needing to follow it. But there were many obstacles to this “perfect” plan I had crafted.
I have had severe anxiety since I was little. I never knew how to manage it until I started counseling in 7th grade. This anxiety set me back: my grades weren’t as high as I wanted them to be, and I wasn’t a good test taker.
For my freshman year of high school, I transitioned from a small private school with a class size of 30 to a school with more than 250 students. Being in a new town with no friends was not easy at all. I became severely depressed, was diagnosed with OCD and developed anorexia. I was being force-fed, stuck in an inpatient treatment facility with no time to myself. All the plans I had made were falling apart. My friends were volunteering and catching the sun at the beach while I cried at home, looking at a glass of orange juice.
One night, everything became too much. I was depressed, anxious about the upcoming school year and angry about treatment. I was so emotional that night: screaming, crying and throwing things. I couldn’t take it. I thought I had no future. I couldn’t endure the pain I was going through to get better. I didn’t see a finish line to my recovery. I couldn’t endure everyday life after everything I had been through.
I vividly remember grabbing a sharp object and attempting suicide. But I couldn’t stand seeing my own blood running down the sides of my leg. I put the object down and hid in my closet — the one place I felt safe, in this dark corner of my house where I felt reality didn’t exist.
I was so hurt and lost. I grabbed my phone and dialed the suicide hotline. I was so antsy waiting for the contact specialist to pick up. What could this person do for me? Why was I calling them? But I can’t stress enough how glad I am that I did. She saved my life.
Sitting on the phone, she made me feel safe. She guided me through techniques to calm down and helped me realize the bigger picture in life. I have never been more thankful to someone than I am to the contact specialist who spoke with me that day.
It has been more than two years since that phone call. Two years of me finding myself and my purpose. And I am so happy I am still here today. I have so much hope for my future: going to college, advocating for various mental disorders and having many people around me who love me – the people I hadn’t noticed two years ago.
If this journey has taught me one thing, it’s that I have the strength to do anything. I wake up every morning excited about what the day has to offer. I’ve gained so much strength through self-reflection and realize I can tackle any daily challenge and can grow from it.