I look down the mountain— the sun is starting to set; purples and blues paint over the sky. My heart starts to quicken, grasping the poles tighter, pulling goggles down. I take a moment to look at the view boom I hear nothing but my skis grinding over the icy snow mixture. My legs are burning, trees covered left and right, and the snow path in front of me is all I see. I’m focused and on top of the world. It’s only me. The wind stinging my face as glide down. Within a split second, I’m at the bottom and everyone is looking at me strangely.

 I almost forget for a second that I’m the big girl. Skiing is my escape. I break stereotypes and make people think differently. Breaking these same stereotypes when I play hockey and forcing people to take a second look. “Wow, she really big” or “Your big, but you still can ski. That’s impressive.” It was a passion,  but then, it was all taken away within a second. August of freshman year. I had a severe foot injury, and couldn’t walk for months. After five months of physical therapy, I was better. I dreamed that was how it would happen, but the reality was there was more work to it.

  Depression took its toll on me. I went from feeling like I was on top of the world to feeling worthless. A dark bottomless, motionless numbness. I was going through the motions. Not really living. Lying in my bed every night thinking maybe tonight is the night the blade will stop and end this feeling for good. Constantly thinking that being dead would be better. What's the point and who cares. Though my foot healed, and I worked through physical therapy, but my head was not better. I was losing this battle. 

Getting a handle on my depression was one of my biggest challenges and is still affecting me to this day. Being strong enough to get through a battle with my brain telling me that I’m not good enough to now wanting to see and live through everything. This has taught me lessons on never giving up and holding on to the people that mean the most to you. Not having so much on my mind and being more confident it rose my self esteem. I was able to fully take in the lecture and the class plan for the day. Not caring what people thought about me and how I looked made me open my eyes wider and start to live my old carefree life again. My grades in all of my classes went up and I enjoyed school again. Nothing comes right away and the first step to any difficult or big change is the hardest. Mine was admitting to myself that I was not okay and I needed to talk to someone. 

Going to a therapist and telling my parents that I was not okay was by far one of the most difficult things that I've done as a teenager. Admitting to someone that thinks so highly of you, thinking that you’re always happy and such an overall bubbly person to lifting up your sleeve showing horizontal lines. I never want to hit that low in my life again. I've learned to ask for help when I need it, and this has also translated into the classroom as well. Asking for help when I’m confused. Before I get better I would have never been able to do this. Getting through difficult times always leads you to a better time and is always worth getting through it. I’m proud to say for myself that I was able to do it and slowly turn my life around for the better.