McKenna's Story

Hi y’all! I just wanted to take this post to introduce myself, and start the story section of our blog with my own story.

My name is McKenna Shaffer and I’m from St. Charles, IL (a suburb about an hour west of Chicago). I am an English and French double major in hopes of working for a publishing house after I finish up my Master’s in English next spring. I am a student, a camp counselor, a daughter, a sorority sister, and I struggle with depression.

My high school life was a constant struggle to keep up with all my Honors and AP classes, playing school and club volleyball, being involved in my church, and trying to stay active in all the clubs I signed up for. I had no time to myself and no time to relax. I wasn’t taking care of what my mind and body needed, and I felt my mental health decline throughout my freshman and sophomore year, and then it finally hit rock bottom prom night of my junior year. This night was the first time I cut myself. A little preface on why prom night: I didn’t get asked to prom and in my constant struggle to be loved by my friends, volleyball team, and boys I liked, this was a nightmare. I struggled to fit in with my high school friends who were all incredibly beautiful, very athletic, smart, and all the boys loved them. These “friends” used the qualities that I would say were my best qualities - loyalty, generosity, positivity - to take advantage of me. I was the one who got called when break-ups happened, when they were drunk and needed to be picked up, when they got in a fight with their other friends, but never when they wanted to have a crazy night out. I was the mom and the responsible one, not the fun one. They treated me as a second-rate member of the group. In terms of boys, I was always the friend used to get to my other, prettier friends. Basically, I felt like I was getting used and like I was less than every single one of the people I’d consider my friends. On top of all that, my grandma had been recently diagnosed with dementia and was fading rapidly, my mom had a breast cancer scare, and I was in my third year of being a volleyball benchwarmer.

Being the hopeless romantic that I was, I thought prom night would be when everything changed and all my problems went away. I pictured it to be this magical night that I spent with my current crush and my fun friends, not thinking about any of my problems. When prom night came around and I would be doing neither of those things, I had had it with the world. I had had it with living. I wanted someone to notice me, notice what I was going through, but I didn’t want to talk about it. I couldn’t be a burden on everyone else’s lives like they were often a burden on mine. So that was the night I decided that cutting myself, and feeling the pain I’d been bottling up inside for years was what I needed to feel better.

I know I should’ve felt guilty after the first droplet of blood ran down my hip, but I didn’t. I finally felt in control of my own life and my own pain. For the next 9 months, I cut myself only a handful of times, but by the time I’d decided on moving away for college in winter of my senior year, I knew that that wasn’t right. Throughout senior year I finally found a boyfriend who supported me in my problems with depression, I found a church that I felt connected to and supported by, and I felt like I had control over my life and my future in Texas. I realized that cutting myself was not healthy: it was not useful, and it was not what I needed. What I needed was to talk to someone who I didn’t have to feel guilty about talking to. I needed to learn to stand up for myself and know that I am my own unique person with unique, yet equally as cared about, strengths and talents.

Today, I know that I am not inferior: I’m not inferior to my friends, to my peers, and to anyone else. I am strong, and I became stronger when I asked for help. Asking my parents for help was the hardest conversation I’ve ever had, and I still don’t like that they have to carry my burden around with them, but it was the right decision. I know now that they want to help carry my burdens. I know that I have people in my life who will help lift some of the weight off my shoulders, as I do theirs. I still struggle with moments where I question why anyone would ever love me, and if anyone ever really will, but I know how to get through those moments and back to the happy version of myself I’ve now cultivated. I am proud of the person I’ve become and I will never let anyone take that away.