I thought my high school experience was normal at first. Surely everyone in my AP World History class sobbed into their pillows three times a week. We all joked about the class making us unhappy. We all felt consistently stressed and anxious. We all struggled to sleep and spent our nights googling “how to be happy.” My experience was normal. I spent the entirety of my sophomore year of high school telling myself that.

Not everything was bad. There would be parts of my day here and there that I would embrace and play on repeat when certain thoughts started creeping in. My family loves each other a disgusting amount. I was and am surrounded by this unit of constant love and support. My parents are financially stable, and I went to bed with a full stomach each night. There was no reason for my unhappiness, yet it continued beyond sophomore year and AP History. When I stopped hanging out with my friends, it was not because I did not like them. I did. A part of me hoped that they would pursue my friendship even after I avoided their texts and phone calls, but it was too exhausting to pretend to be happy all the time.

Instead I would sit in my room alone for hours. I don’t even remember what I used to do for all that time.

I do remember coming home from my aunt’s house one Sunday evening after dinner. My parents sat up front in the car, and I sat in the back seat with my twin sister. She was teasing me about something insignificant, and instead of teasing her back, I broke down. I cried. I yelled. I cried more. All of this in a four minute car ride. When we got home, I immediately went to my room, but I was too worked up. I couldn’t figure out why I was so upset, but the feelings were very real and very persistent. So I went for a walk. I found myself sitting among some trees by a parkway. I just cried and held my knees to my chest for about half an hour. The world was loud. My thoughts were loud. The cars were loud. Everything was overwhelming. My thoughts went a certain way, and even my happy memories that I would use to calm myself down were not working. I had considered taking my own life before, but it always seemed to be an abstract concept. Not like this. This felt present. This felt immediate. I stood and watched the cars zoom by me. I thought about how easy it would be to step into traffic. I was tired. I had been aggressively crying and holding myself for the better part of an hour. This was my worst breakdown yet, and I am forever grateful that I was tired. I was too tired to walk into traffic.

I sat back down and only part of me realized how close I was at attempting suicide.

My parents and sister were huddled around the computer when I walked back into the house. I tried to go upstairs without talking about what just happened, but my sister stopped me. They asked me if I was depressed. I denied. They asked if I wanted to talk to someone. I declined. I lied to my perfect, only trying to help family. I lied to my twin sister, my other half, but after a year of pretending to be happy, I was finally called on my bluff. I remember the relief of falling asleep that night. I knew I wasn’t fooling my family anymore, and I realized I wasn’t fooling myself anymore. I wanted to live, and in order to do that I realized I had to face my depression. I could no longer passively watch it ruin my friendships, my grades, or my relationship with my family.

My journey to happiness was not completed in one night. It took another year before I had more good days than bad, and it took another year after that before my bad days were all but gone. I was never alone, but it sure felt like it until I opened up to my last remaining friend about my depression. She was going through it, too. I wasn’t alone. We relied on each other to do simple tasks like going to the gym or writing in our journals. She encouraged me to make new friends, and I did. I started spending less time shut in my room.

Life became enjoyable again.

I now appreciate the bad days when I have them. I think I will always have them, but now they are choppy waves rather than tsunamis. They remind me how much I enjoy life on the good days. I still worry that my happiness will be taken from me for what seems like no reason at all, but I know now that I don’t have to face depression alone. I can now openly talk about my history with it. When I feel overwhelmed, I know that I have people. I hope that in sharing this story I can help eliminate the stigma of mental health issues. I am beyond grateful that I was tired. I am beyond grateful that I have a caring family. I am beyond grateful that I am still alive.

If you think someone may be struggling with depression, I urge you to reach out. Just showing kindness to someone may impact their life. You may provide a happy memory that quells the creeping thoughts. There is no easy fix when it comes to mental illness, but things do get better.

I know what you are thinking: this is the absolute worst day of your life.

Whether you studied for hours on end and still ended up getting a C-minus on that test, your formal date ditched you as soon as you got to the venue, or you totally face-planted getting off the bus in the rain, there is no way any good could come out of the situation, right?

Well, rest assured, you are not alone, and you will make it through all the embarrassment.

Here are five reasons why you should choose to be positive, no matter what.

1. Things are not as bad as they seem.

We have all been there: those days when nothing seems to be going your way and everything seems to be falling apart. Chances are, you have had this type of day before, and guess what? You made it! You have been through this once (or maybe multiple times), and you can do it again. Things may seem terrible, but the reality is, in 20 years you won’t remember this day, so keep your head up and keep going!

2. You will feel better.

Just trust me on this one. Even when everything is going wrong, if you are determined to have a positive outlook you will feel so much better. So go ahead, eat that Ben and Jerry’s, or binge watch Grey’s Anatomy. You earned it! After a hectic day taking time to do things you enjoy will leave you feeling refreshed and rejuvenated.

3. It puts things in perspective.

So, today was absolutely terrible. It is okay to be bummed out for a little while, as long as you realize the situation for what it is, a single event out of your whole life. You are young and I am here to tell you that, for what it’s worth, this won’t even matter in the grand scheme of things. You will have plenty more embarrassing and terrible days, but as long as you remember to keep your chin up, I promise you will be ready to take on whatever crazy curveballs life throws your way.

4. You will be healthier.

Okay, I am not saying you don’t have to eat your vegetables, or make that dreaded trek to the gym, but studies show people who think positively have lower stress levels, lower blood pressure, and get sick less often. So do something good for yourself and your health by not sweating over the small stuff.

5. Tomorrow will be better.

Think about it — if today is the absolute worst day of your life then, by default, tomorrow has to be better. And, hey, that’s a positive thought in and of itself. So no matter how bad things seem, remember that tomorrow is always a new day. There you have it! Now you are equipped with the knowledge to go and take on the world.

So channel your inner Beyoncé, jam out to your favorite music, or pet a small animal. Do anything and everything you can to make today the absolute best it can be. You deserve it!

Jackie is also part of a phenomenal organization all AIESEC. In conjunction with our partnership with their organization, please see their blog here:

(Poem written by Christian Bowman)

Yet little can

Tomorrow’s sunshine give

To one who will not live. –Langston Hughes

How did your body look in the sunshine
when your room was bombed with stinking dope?
I imagine you lifeless, floating in a perfect high-
a thin line between passing, and peace.
I really wish you fell from that dream,
But what do I know? We are only friends.

I went to your funeral with all of our friends.
Our black contrasted with the yellow sun,
illuminating death like a life-like dream
and the casket they buried you in was dope,
but I still don’t think your father has found peace-
He speaks of the dangers of getting high,

and how you struggled with addiction in high-school
when he writes posts to your Facebook friends.
I think he sees fragments of you in pieces
of us. Like Jesus on that Sunday,
you rose from us with clouds of dope
crowning your head with blue, blissful dream.

The night after your service, I dreamt
of our mischief when we were high.
It never occurred to us to try dope.
We would, instead, drink with our friends
until we passed out or until sunrise.
High-school had never seemed that peaceful.

But here I am, stoned and writing. A piece
of you lingers here like a lucid dream,
and there is still a father missing his son.
Yet, even as you watch us at your height
from which you smile down toward your friends,
some still look down toward their arms for dope.

You left your friends like memories of dreams,
but I hope the dope at least gave you some peace.
Still, they get high, higher than a summer sunrise.