women wearing red lipstick and holding a pen

Big Sis Advice

Sadly, a growing trend I see is the throwing around of a term coined “mental health,” making the topic a redundant cliché. Like many important topics thrown around on today’s social media, the importance of this topic slides through the cracks of a conversation that people should be able to have without feeling “mentally unstable.” It wasn’t until I, seemingly-having-it-together Kimiya Factory, had my own mental awakening.  

I am in no way tooting my own horn when I say that the number of things I’m involved in at UTSA makes me value my bed so much more in the morning, when I’m cozy and reluctant to leave it. And don’t even get me started on the increasing dependence I have on espresso with every deadline-filled week that comes my way. Of course, I see “mental health” this and “mental health” that in the majority of interactions I have on a college campus.

However, it wasn’t until I sat on the lid of my toilet this week, crying uncontrollably at 8 a.m., that I realized my mental health is a separate yet uniform being that is essential to my existence.

There I was, crying because things were wrong, and crying because things were right. A couple of things went wrong, then suddenly everything felt that way. Being a person who often reminds myself that someone always has it worse, I had to realize that problems are still problems nonetheless.

Yet here I was, dealing with pent-up and recycled emotions that got lost in the everyday routine I call life. I was so busy worrying about what was due and who to please that I left the most important person out: me. Crying so abruptly only forced me to ask myself, how many times do you cry a month? When you’re having fun, are you enjoying the moment, or are you waiting for it to end to get something else done?

So why am I allowing myself to be vulnerable for every eye that reads this week’s column, by opening up about my recent mental breakdown? It is because the more I asked myself these questions, the more the answers revealed that at the end of the day, I’m only human. And it’s okay to step back and cry or to take a day to gather your mind, body and thoughts–just as long as you get back up. 

Letting things build up only makes it harder for yourself to knock them down. Valuing your mental health doesn’t make you crazy or unstable; it makes you honest. By the way, I’m okay now and because of this blindsiding revelation–I’ll continue to be.

For all of my espresso-dependent-super-humans,

Xoxo,

Big Sis

Related Stories

More from Kimiya Factory Assistant News Editor

Kimiya Factory Assistant News Editor

I remember this moment vividly several times throughout my life: being asked if whatever I fought for was ‘that deep.’…

More In Arts_and_life

Breahna Luera Staff Writer

On April 12, Roadrunner Productions hosted UTSA’s annual Fiesta event at the Sombrilla. Students got rowdy while celebrating one of…