depression

It is in this atmosphere of reduction that the sad girl comes in. On TikTok, she may be described as a “Virgin Suicides”/“Bojack Horseman”/Lana Del Rey/“Gone Girl”/Mitski fan. She is ruminative and sad, while enjoying ruminative and sad media.

Once she’d drifted off, I was comfortable enough to communicate the heaviness of my thoughts, knowing that she couldn’t listen. 

When I explain this aspect of my mental journey, the majority of people I talk to have some way of criticizing my choice to refrain from medication, unable to understand why the “magic” happy pill wouldn’t work.

It was never a secret to my family that I was struggling with my mental health. That being said, my mental state was never outwardly discussed. Avoiding this sensitive topic is a hallmark of the Korean experience.

I’m the first to admit that I wasn’t the best daughter, friend or sister during that period. And yet, the people I was closest to offered me reconciliation – the bridges I burned could be rebuilt.

Periods of sadness, exhaustion and dissociation are inevitable for me. What has kept me going is learning how to manage the waves.

There is nothing impressive about pushing yourself to the point of no return — it is always braver to be vulnerable. Maybe it’s time that admitting when it’s hard, asking for help and practicing self-care become a part of who we are as UC Berkeley students.

Arrows draw straight lines — direct and unwavering. On the contrary, Bay Area author William Brewer’s “The Red Arrow” is anything but linear.

I kept my struggles to myself. Even though I was visibly suffering and in an abusive friendship, it seemed like no one could understand me, nor would they invest any time and energy in recognizing why I was so ill.

Amid mental health disorders, there is light at the end of the tunnel. It takes time, frustration, and work to notice the good that comes out of it. Mental health comes with many challenges, but with them also comes character building, deeper friendships and a sense of purpose.