Shelagh Fluharty

During my junior year of high school I started fighting with my Mom. About what? I'm not entirely sure, but I do know that I was suddenly becoming more irrational and lazy, plus I started to not care about what I said to her. I started to understand that I wasn't okay mentally but she never picked up on any of my little hints at my struggles. The last thing I wanted was to bring the people I love into my dark hole. It built up though. I started to snap at her more. Why was I doing this? She is the person who has given me everything I could need and pushed me to be the best version of me. One night, I snapped over the smallest little thing. I went right to my room and balled my eyes out until a couple hours later my Mom came in to check on me. The questions started to get thrown at me; What's wrong? Why are you crying? Is it really that bad? My answer, "I don't know." But I did know. I didn't know if I could say what I really wanted to say to my mom. "I don't want to be alive." The words spilled out almost on accident but almost on purpose. I had said it. It crushed her like it had been crushing me for so long. My cry for help wasn't so subtle anymore. It was scary and relieving at the same time to know that someone else now knew my guarded secret. Within the next couple of weeks I was seeing a therapist. Even though she doesn't fully know it, my Mom has saved me from that dark hole that I was so willing to crash into not just once but multiple times. High school finally ended, but then came another daunting task of life, college. Better yet, being a student athlete in college. Would I be good enough? Will I make friends? Would people actually like me? Am I smart enough? These questions have never really faded away fully but with the love and support from teammates, friends, coaches, and professors I have been able to disregard these questions. The competitiveness in me from the sport I love has given me the drive to overcome my dark and negative thoughts. I won't give up. You win some, you lose some (or most), but I think the participation medal is pretty damn worth it. Talk it out with someone, anyone. It can and it will get easier. And Mom, thank you for listening.