Victoria Zuniga

The author usually wears a smile, and that smile is becoming more genuine.

“I don’t understand how you’re always happy.”

“What’s there not to be happy about?” I consistently respond.

   The problem is,  I’m not truly happy. In fact, I’m often sad.

   When I leave for school, I’m sad. When I leave school, I’m sad. I’m never just happy. There’s always something that tears me down; it’s almost as though I have a monster tied to me.

   No matter what I do, who I’m with, I always fear that my monster is going to come out. The monster makes me sad. Of course, everyone feels some type of sadness, but this sadness is indescribable. I feel alone, I feel lost, empty even; I can’t explain why.

   I mean, there are a variety of factors that are possible contributors, but none are the EXACT reason.

   My dad. for instance, has one of the biggest impacts. He walked out of my life before I was able to take my first breath. I am blessed to have my step-dad, but It’s not the same growing up without a man who helped give me life. I’ve always received comments saying how I should “Suck it up” or “At least you have a father figure,” but knowing that my step-dad isn’t my biological dad hurts me–knowing that a complete stranger, not blood related, chose me, when my own father did not.  

   Bullying is another possible factor.  I was bullied all throughout elementary and middle school. I was always the black sheep in the crowd because I wasn’t thin, I wasn’t blonde with blue eyes, I wasn’t good enough to be left alone. The constant comments I would receive hurt. They varied between “Shut up you’re annoying” to “Go to the gym.” I specifically remember a time where I was talking to one of  my friends and I was telling them how I lost ten pounds. Immediately they started laughing at me, saying I looked the exact same and that I might as well starve myself. That’s when I slowly began to develop an eating disorder. Very few, until this day, are aware that I would either starve myself or purge. 

   I also received endless amounts of comments on how much I talk.

    “Do you ever shut up?” “You’re so annoying.” 

    Every. Single. Day. Nonstop. As soon as I went to open my mouth to answer a question, or ask how someone’s day was, I was immediately dismissed from a conversation. Eventually I began talking less and less, and now have hardly any motivation to want to keep a conversation going. I’m not as outgoing as I used to be, and my relationship with food remains bumpy. Could this be the cause of my monster?

   Academics is something that I’ve always been passionate about. All of elementary school I was rewarded with an honors award due to how intelligent I was. Unfortunately, Covid took a massive toll on me and how I performed academically. I started to care less and less about school, and never had the motivation to do school work. Eventually, I stopped taking up extra credit assignments, I stopped raising my hand to answer questions. I completely lost myself along the way.  It was almost as if I was sucked into an infinite void and couldn’t get out. High school is when I got worse. I received my first F on a test. It completely shook my world. It was in biology.  Science was never my strongest subject, but I never received anything lower than a B. Little did I know, my grades would only go downhill from here.

    I started receiving very few A’s on tests and quizzes, because I never had the motivation to study. Now, my junior year, my grades have never been worse. I can hardly open the school’s grading system, because every time I get a glimpse at my grades, I lose it. Uncontrollable sobbing. Every time I talk about my grades, I always receive assumptions that I’m stupid, and that I’m not smart enough to make it into college. It hurts my heart hearing someone completely put my goals aside.  I want to get into a good college, I want to be financially stable, I don’t want to retake my classes over the summer, but it’s my fault for not having the motivation.

   Over time, I’ve come to the realization that my sadness won’t just disappear. Although I wish I was able to snap my fingers to make it vanish, I’ve been able to find other resources and healthier coping mechanisms. 

   In September, I got signed up for therapy classes that occur at least once a month, and  It has made such a difference on how I not only view myself, but others as well. My therapist, Caitlin Swets, has helped me understand that I’m not alone. Whenever I meet with her, she always reminds me that I’m not the only one who feels this way, which has really opened my eyes.

   Not only has therapy contributed to my healing journey, but so has my choice of who I want to surround myself with. I started distancing myself from people who made me feel unhappy and would always make me feel negative towards life. Along with this, I also stopped caring about what others would say about me, or the rude comments they would make. I’ve come to the realization that all the negative remarks that were being made were all coming from their insecurities, rather than who I am, which has helped me gain a lot of self-love over time.

   I always receive comments on how positive I am, or how deeply I care about others’ mental well-being. This is all just a reflection that I understand I can never know what someone is truly going through.

   Life is something everyone has to overcome. It’s hard and can be overwhelming. With the help of therapy and other resources, I’ve found ways to help build myself up. Accepting myself is a key factor. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’m not perfect; no one is. In the end, there’s always going to be someone prettier, or smarter, but that shouldn’t define someone as a person, and it doesn’t make them any less than anyone else. 

   “Why are you always happy?” I’m happy because I know I’m not alone. And my joy is becoming more genuine.