Marina Ali's Story:

 

Growing up, I never really thought that mental health was something important. It was later in life, when my quality of living started to slowly deteriorate, that I finally figured out the root of my life’s problems: mental health instability. And this instability wasn’t just something that I was going through. It was also the people around me who had unstable, yet high functioning, mental health. In all honesty, I probably would’ve crashed and burned a while back if it wasn’t for Islam and my sorority sisters.

 

Believe it or not, I was told to seek out therapy at a frat party. I originally took the advice as shade. Mental instability is usually the brunt of a joke in our society, so I thought this individual was just criticizing my party behavior. However, I later realized my party behaviors were symptoms of my brain’s dysfunction. It took two years, lots of poetry, many hours of crying, and a university transfer to get me to my current state.

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As of now, I’m okay. I’m doing just fine these days. No medication (I absolutely abhorred Prozac because I couldn’t write poetry when I was on it), no therapy, and no destructive behaviors. The darkness occasionally creeps back into my head, but I remind myself that I’m strong. That I’ve come such a long way and I can’t fuck it up. People think you can have a mental illness and just be automatically cured. It’s a lifelong thing that I’ll have to struggle with as I grow older. However, I don’t fear it now the way I used to a few years back. It’s all a matter of hitting rock bottom and finally catching the will to survive.