Personal Stories

18 year old female, wrist laceration, fracture in right and left wrists, partially collapsed lung, level three lacerated spleen, fractured skull (forehead) and severe concussion after approx. 20 ft fall from second story window. August 5, 2014, I almost lost my life.

Even before this accident, I heavily struggled with my emotions for years. When I first came to Berkeley, things seemed to get a lot worse. The first few months of my freshman year at UC Berkeley were not easy. After a trip to urgent care, I found out that the asthma attacks I believed I was having were really panic attacks. At first, I was really angry at the doctor who told me this and I refused to believe it. A counselor from Psychological Services came and spoke with me and I was still confused, but I began to accept what they were saying. I was struggling with panic attacks. They became so frequent and crippling that I couldn’t get through a day without having numerous attacks. I became mad at myself, thinking how could I let my emotions do this to my body? I finally reached out and started to get some help. I saw several different doctors before I was diagnosed with an anxiety disorder and situational depression. I was put on medication and began seeing a therapist regularly, but things got a lot worse before they got better.

The summer after my freshman year, I hit my rock bottom. While under the influence, I dove, head first, out of a second story window onto concrete. I don’t remember much of the accident, except for bits and pieces of being shuttled around. Flashes of bright lights. Doctors and nurses repeatedly reciting the injuries I endured. I kept hearing over and over again, people anxiously telling me “You’re going to be alright, just hold on, you’re going to be alright.” I remember waking up, confused, in the intensive care unit of a hospital. I woke up to a look on my mom’s face, one that I had never seen before and one that shook me to my core.

As my mom explained what happened, my heart broke. It broke for my family and friends that looked at me with tears in their eyes and quivering voices. It broke for every loved one that I had hurt being so reckless with my life. It even broke for myself when I saw that damage that I had done to my body.

I was in the ICU for one week and transferred to a hospital back in my hometown, Sacramento, for a week to get my wrist surgeries. Every single person that came into my hospital room, whether it was a friend, a family member, doctor, nurse, all said the same thing. “It is a miracle that you are alive.”

And it was. It was a miracle that after a 20 foot fall, I was able to walk away.

I remember lying in bed after getting out of the hospital thinking, “Why I am alive? I don’t deserve to be alive.” I was in so much pain and knew the road ahead of me was going to be a difficult one. I wanted to quit, I wanted to give up. I couldn’t understand why I was still alive when there were so many great people, better people, that had lost their lives. I didn’t think that I deserved to have mine.

Though I was severely traumatized and dealt with PTSD and difficult physical handicaps for about a year afterward, I still had my life. I had to hold on to the idea that this all happened for a reason. I didn’t know what it was at the time, but hoped that it would present itself one day.

After my accident, as I searched to understand what lessons this would bring, I continued to struggle with my emotions. I had really difficult and dark times, but I also had really great times. Some days I would wake up and would not be able to get out of bed and others I would feel encouraged and motivated, thinking that I could take on whatever came my way. A little over a year later, I was finally diagnosed with panic disorder and bipolar disorder. While this intimidated and scared me, it was also comforting because I felt like I was finally getting an answer.

This accident, this whole experience, has allowed me to look at life in a different way. This whole journey has made me stronger and more compassionate. There were so many moments where I wanted to give up. Where I thought to myself, this is just so hard, I can’t do it. What am I working towards? Why do I continue to fight? I thought no one saw how hard I was working just to get through the day. I found myself thinking, what does it matter anyway? Sometimes it felt like I couldn’t breathe, like I was under water and couldn’t come up for air. I still have those moments, but now it helps me to think about the people who have been there for me. My support system. My family. My close friends. I am lucky to have loving parents, two older brothers who I have always looked up to, and close friends who have all been selfless through the hard times.

I force myself to remember that I can overcome difficult times, thanks to moments when people who I admire and take example from reach out to me with stories of their own hardships.

While I was having a particularly hard month, one of my older brothers reached out to me, sharing that he had a really hard day. He told me about all of the things he was struggling with and then he said “the only things that could calm me down were you and one other thing. I thought that if you were able to overcome the unfortunate things that had happened in your life and continue to bravely fight your way down the path of success, what was my excuse? And I thank you for helping me through that.”

My older brother’s admiration brought me to tears. I finally understood reasons for my accident. 

Although I couldn’t see the reasons during the difficult times, I know now that I survived to advocate for others to find the agency and willingness to reach out. The hardest step in my experience was to admit “I have a problem and I need to take action to help myself.” It took me so long to accept that I was struggling and to reach out for support and the consequence was almost my life. So many people can help you, but until you are ready to help yourself, nothing will change. I am so blessed to have access to the resources that I now benefit so greatly from: doctors, medicine and therapy.

I’m aware that not everyone has the amazing support system I’ve had through all of this. Now, it is my turn to support those going through a similar battle.

I was secretly struggling for so long because I thought no one could relate. I was embarrassed and didn’t see any one else stepping up and that is why I am here today. There are over 30,000 students at my school and I have only met two people that have actually said, “I have struggled with mental health issues too.” This makes me incredibly sad but it is also so frustrating. There is such a real stigma around mental illness and so many people are affected by it.

Find the courage to speak out.

If you are struggling, reach out, ask for help. I remember feeling such an unbearable pain, I felt like the darkness would never end, but I know now, you have to hold on and you will come out of it. Give yourself time and take care of yourself through it. If someone reaches out to you, don’t run away. Recognize what they are going through, ask what you can do to support them, and just simply be there for them. This is something people don’t want to talk about and I hope I can help change that. We need to support those who are struggling and encourage them to seek help. Together, as a community, we can change the outlook on mental health. 

 

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