Giving Yourself Grace
A story on how to be nicer to yourself
By Maddie Roth with art by Alex Kozak
When I was in high school, I was involved in two clubs. I played tennis and had a job on the weekends. Homework was never unbearable, and tests never stressed me out. I had friends I would go out with every weekend because we knew the weekdays were dedicated to school and spending time with family. I went on like this for four years.
When I came to college, all of that had changed. It was my year to be irresponsible and do everything I had wanted to do without anyone holding me back. And that’s what I did, loving every moment of life as much as the last. But sophomore year came around, and suddenly mountains of responsibility did not seem so far out of reach. Rent, groceries, normal house supplies, and laundry were expenses I did not have to worry about the year before. The only cloud hanging over my head was tuition, and now, it seemed like a raging thunderstorm constantly hovering over me.
In order to combat this, I decided I needed a job. Sorry, no, jobs. I picked up three different jobs, filling up every amount of spare time with work. I stopped going to class because attendance wasn’t required for any of them and began turning in assignments the day they were due. This wasn’t me; I wasn’t the type of student to do this. Once fall semester was over, I promised myself I was going to be better in spring. I made excuses about how I didn’t really enjoy my classes and it would be better in spring. I was going to be better.
But it only got worse. I got promoted at one of my jobs, meaning more responsibilities, and added an internship on top of everything else. My phone was constantly going off with notifications regardless of the fact I had turned o all social media notifications. Three apps had notifications on, and my phone was constantly buzzing from those apps. I have struggled with severe mental health issues for years and decided it would be a good idea to completely ignore my mental health so I could focus on school, work, and my friends. Every moment of my waking days were filled with class, meetings, seeing friends, being somewhere with someone at all times. I was never alone. And I never thought about my mental health.
About two weeks ago, my childhood best friend told me he was going to be in Minneapolis and demanded I see him. It had been three years since I had seen him last, so I immediately agreed. He has known me for ten years, being my personal therapist for six of those years. Nobody knows more about me than he does, but I had felt that I was in a good place for the first time in a long time. That’s exactly what I told him, and for a moment, he believed me.
“That’s great Maddie, but how are you really?” he said. I gave him an inquisitive look, telling him that was all. I was doing well and there was no more to it. He kept pushing me, asking how my mental health was doing. I paused, and without thinking, said “I don’t know.” Since spring semester had started, I had ignored myself.
I gave every piece of me to everyone and everything around me in fear of going down the same path I had gone down in the fall. After seeing my friend, I cried. I fell into complete and utter shambles.
The past two weeks of my life have been the busiest and unhappiest I’ve had in a while. I’ve had several exciting opportunities granted to me, but none of them have felt celebratory. Instead I have felt the weight of the world increase, and I have been suffocating a little more everyday.
Every text, every email, every notification sent me further into having a mental breakdown. My breaking point was reached over a minor inconvenience: a bad grade on a test I thought I was going to do well on.
My best friend came over and held me in his tree branch arms, scared to move because he thought if he made one wrong move, I would shatter and never be able to piece myself back together. After sobbing for an hour, my best friend asked why I was so upset over one test. I had gotten a B on the exam, and he questioned why this is what had set me over the edge. It was at that moment I realized there was more going on underneath the surface: I was ignoring my body’s desperate cry for self care.
The glamorized version of self care includes a face mask, eating ice cream, and watching your favorite movie. If nobody will be honest with you, let me: this doesn’t work. This is a temporary solution to a deeper issue. Chemicals that are meant to “brighten my face” are no more helpful than eating a pint of Ben and Jerry’s chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. A face mask will not resolve any mental health issue you are struggling with, and ice cream cannot take away the heartache of depression. Self care means turning o your phone for a day or taking time to be by yourself. Self care means crying your eyes out until the tears no longer stop falling and you finally feel like there is a chance to breathe again. Self care means therapy.
Four mental breakdowns later, I realized it was time to take a break from everything. A friend of mine picked me up, and I decided to turn my phone off. I was with my friend for six hours and had my phone o the entire time. When I turned it back on, I had a slew of texts asking where I was and what I was doing. But for the first time in a long time, I didn’t care. It was the first time in two weeks where I felt like time was standing still. And it was amazing. Turn your phone off. Maybe tell people you’re doing it first, but turn your phone off.
Give your grace; be patient with yourself. Life as a college student is extremely busy, but you do not have to suffocate under the pressure of doing everything and anything all at once. It is okay to say no to someone; it is okay to skip a class if you need a moment. Nobody is going to pin it against you if you have to take time for yourself. At the end of the day, you truly only have yourself. If you can’t handle being with yourself and taking care of yourself, I promise you will end up feeling as miserable as I did.
I went home this past weekend to escape the Cities. When I was home, I went to a parking lot that hugs a side of Lake Michigan. I sat on the roof of my car and looked up at the stars, taking a moment to question if everything was going to be okay. It was at that moment I broke down for a fifth and final time. I screamed into the night, releasing all of the pain trapped underneath my tongue for the past two weeks and decided it was time to be nicer to myself.
Never be afraid to remove yourself from the world for a bit. When it feels like the world is caving in, give yourself grace. Allow yourself to feel everything and realize it is all temporary. You will not feel this forever. It may be a couple of weeks or months, maybe even years, but I promise you this is all temporary. But you will not get through this if you do not give yourself grace and patience. After screaming to the stars, I took three deep breaths and gave myself a moment to collect my scattered thoughts. I pulled out a cigarette and felt the nicotine course through my bloodstream. Ironically enough, it was the first time I had breathed in two weeks.