If you’ve ever caught a glimpse of what I used to write when I was in high school, then you know how incredibly bleak it was. And you’ll know how incredibly difficult it was for me to trust people. I could blame that on so many things: parents who never let me out of the house, talk on the phone, socialize; my insecurities that people were going to judge me; parents who told me to never trust anyone else; my inability to know just how to act in social situations; my introversion. Whatever the cause, it was still there. The thought. The knowing. That I was alone. That I would always be alone. That it would just be me, and that everyone else deserved connections to the world except for me.

Fast forward through college. I was a leader in student groups, I travelled for tennis tournaments, and my roommates weren’t surprised if they barely saw me. I no longer had parents to keep me from the basic human need of socializing. But that practice didn’t relieve the anxiety. It didn’t relieve the insecurities, or the underlying belief that letting someone in meant shutting them out forever.

And then it happened. I told people what I was going through. I told them how hard every day was, how I was constantly battling this evil in my brain called depression. For the first time in my life, I let them in. I embraced them. Not only that – I let myself rely on them.

There were so many years of mistrust, of being stuck in my shell, that once I finally opened up, I didn’t know how to handle it. I had moments of complete trust, but also total dependency. I had previously told myself that no one would ever be able to handle me – that my parents were right and everyone in the world was out to get me – and in my anger at the solitude, let myself be completely dependent. I wanted to be taken care of. I wanted to throw myself into the unknown and prove everything I ever believed about relationships, friendships, and trust wrong. I let myself go there. It had gotten that bad.

But it also doesn’t work quite that black and white. After training myself to feel alone for so many years, it didn’t just go away. It would come back. It would come back more powerful than ever and contrast the blatant dependency I had on others. Questions would rise up in my head: “They’re only here because they pity me. When, not if, but when will they leave me? I don’t believe them.” Okay, maybe not questions, but directing thoughts.

And so it would go. Back and forth. “I’m here because of my friends. They ground me.” “My friends have no idea. Why don’t I just shut off?” “I can’t do anything stupid because I have people who care about me. Even if that’s the only thing…” “They don’t really care, why have you been lying to yourself?” An unhealthy argument of my mind.

I can’t say for sure if I ever knew how to be with someone, but if I didn’t know how to lose someone, I do now. It’s that back and forth. That swaying trust. The complete reliance and then the blame and then back again. There’s only so much a person can handle, especially when they care deeply for you. I had no idea how to balance that line with any of my relationships, because I had no idea how to balance myself.

There’s the punchline. I wasn’t confident enough in myself to allow that interdependence. Complete dependence, and I was a child. Complete independence, and I was a wall. All because I didn’t have enough confidence in myself. To believe that people can care about me. But also to believe that I can be strong on my own. I was so scared of going in either direction because I would go all the way.

But fighting my depression – that’s what this journey is. It’s learning to believe in myself. Really believe in myself. To understand that people can care about me, but not feel like I have to rely on them in order to live. That I can love and be loved, but I can also have faith in myself. And not just depend on other people to stop me from hurting myself. That’s the goal, anyways. That when all else fails, what’s left will be me. My integrity. And that that will be enough.

I’m hopeful. And I’m excited to get there.