Saying No, Even When You Want to Say Yes.
The title may imply that this is the beginning of some long winded analogy related to the infamous R. Kelly song (that looking back on, sounded way too suspicious for all of us not to be alarmed) about gettin’ it on whilst in the midst of a serious case of cognitive dissonance, but alas this is far more boring and simplistic than an in-depth analysis of borderline rape-y 90s music; unless, that isn’t what you thought of when you read the title, and if that’s the case…please forget that you ever read the first sentence. Though, let’s be honest, an analysis of R. Kelly would be quite interesting, today, I want to discuss a terrible habit of mine: saying yes, when I should be saying no.
This habit is in reference to my problem of taking on more responsibility than I can handle in my everyday life. Because of this habit of taking on more responsibility than I can handle, I feel the need to put on a face of having it all together, which couldn’t be further from the truth most of the time. Because of this mask, I tend to attract more responsibility than I really need because people make the assumption I can handle it. You must be thinking, “Well, Chloé, that's not the fault of the other party, but your own because you can’t say no.”
For which I would respond in polite, “Why yes, my imaginary conversation partner, you are indeed correct. You have also succinctly restated the title of this post, which is quite serendipitous if I do say so myself.” And I do say so myself, because this is a conversation between myself and my know-it-all alter ego.
You see, this habit had its start in high school, when the onset panic of filling out college and scholarship applications starting steadily approaching towards then end of my sophomore year. As you may have noticed, getting into college is becoming increasingly difficult, as is paying for it, and as a result overachieving seems to be the new normal. Though not everyone partakes, those that were determined to get into big name schools or decent scholarships jumped on to the overachieving train. Even one of the most notorious slackers at my high school, who previously clowned on us overachievers, ran for student council president (and won, if I might add) for college.
I used my time in high school to fluff up my resume for college as much as I possibly could.
From my perspective, it seemed like to get a scholarship you either needed to have a really compelling story of a really terrible upbringing (the typical rags to riches trope) or a ridiculous amount of extracurriculars. I, personally, utilized my mother as a common theme in my scholarship essays; dramatizing my upbringing of being raised by a single mother, hoping that would get me somewhere. I guess that one got used a few too many times though because I’ve only ever received two scholarships, and neither were from that story.
As a whole, I find this pressure from institutions of higher education to be extremely unhealthy, especially because it does not end with high school. In today's workforce, a bachelor’s is so common it’s seen more like a high school diploma and a master’s is the new bachelor’s. Because of this, I’ve run into many a college students that run themselves into the ground trying to go above and beyond to get into their graduate program of choice. This sentiment is reflected by a student enrolled at the University of Illinois, featured in the book American Hookup by Lisa Wade (click here to read more about my opinions on Wade’s book):
“We were the generation of high schoolers pressured to do everything: good grades, have a job, volunteer, participate in clubs, go out, stay in, have friends, have a significant other and exercise, while making sure to have a clean room, get enough sleep and do chores. Now that we’re in our own little bubble of just people our age, with no parents to dictate our schedule to us, we’re still capable of doing all that, just like we were trained to, but the level of intensity has increased. Classes are harder and clubs are more time-consuming.” (Wade, 116)
In the second to last term of my sophomore year in college, I was working two jobs, taking sixteen credits, an officer in the student council and the honors society, president of a club, and was community 45 minutes every morning and night to get to school. Needless to say, sleep was a pretty rare occurrence during this time in my life. I say that like it’s still not a problem.
This trend of biting off more than I can chew transferred with me to my current school. During this past spring, I had one job, was leading a club while being an officer in another, taking fifteen credits, and was a research assistant (a pretty crappy one though). I’ll let you take a wild guess at what happened because of the stress and pressure from all of this. Any guesses?…Really, nothing?
What about you? Yes, you in the back over there. “Uuuuummmmm….you passed all of your classes with flying colors and received the presidential medal of honor for curing cancer?”
I roll my eyes in exasperation, “Let’s give that another go.”
The dumbass in the back seemingly gets some inspiration and excitedly yells out, “You had a mental breakdown!”
“WHY YES, I had the most severe mental breakdown I’ve ever experienced! Get this man a cookie!” After “coping” with numerous changes in my life by not coping at all, and just repressing and pushing forward, I finally collapsed under the pressure. Although this is really unhealthy to say, I’m pretty impressed that I made it three years without falling apart completely. Until, that is, I did.
So much was happening all at once, ignoring the problems cleared my head for a while, until the problems could no longer be ignored. Then I turned to self-harm (don’t be too shocked, it’s not that uncommon), there are many forms of self-harm one of which is excessive exercise, this was my drug of choice for a while. I took up crack climbing, which is a form of rock climbing where you essentially shove an extremity part into a crack in a wall, twist to lock, and climb using joints (it’s a little more complicated than that, but that’s as best an explanation I can give without demonstration). As a whole, this form of exercise is not bad unless your goal in doing so is hurting yourself and not climbing.
There was one day where I almost broke my wrist, and instead of taking a break or being scared my first thought was, “good.” I kept climbing that day until the skin on my hands was rubbed raw and bleeding; during this time both of my legs were covered from ankle to thigh in bruises and scratches. When self-harm no longer worked to relieve the pain, I tried to disappear, literally. I locked myself in my house for six days straight. I ignored phone calls and text messages, skipped classes and missed meetings, and the scariest part of all is that no one knew; no one had even the slightest clue as to what was going on.
I mentioned previously the mask I put on; well did I happen to mention that I could win an Oscar if there was a category for masking your feelings? Because if not, I could. Up until I tried to disappear, I appeared like your stereotypical sleep-deprived college student complaining about my lack of sleep and my never-ending list of assignments. The thought that I could’ve done something more extreme than what I did, and no one would be the wiser, keeps me up at night sometimes. Something that I’ve noticed over the years is that the people that can appear the most “normal” or “happy” or “put together” are usually the ones that have been through the most pain. So please, try not to make the assumption that someones outward appearance is any indication to what’s going on inside their head because you could be tragically wrong.
Now I’m not saying that you should assume that every one of your friends is clinically depressed, just that assumptions can be powerful thoughts.
Reflecting on these past few months from a more informed and self-aware perspective, I’ve come to some conclusions as to why I went batshit crazy. In the process of trying to overachieve and succeed, I lost sight of myself; I consistently neglected my own mental, physical, spiritual, and social wellbeing. I’ve always done everything in my life in the way I think it needs to be done but, at this point, each additional academic achievement feels like another rock on top of my tombstone.
Looking back on my life so far, I can clearly remember moments I chose to study rather than spend time with my family or hang out with friends. Some may write that off, saying that “sacrifice is necessary to succeed” which I agree with, but not if the sacrifice is yourself. Taking care of yourself is far more important than the success that may result from “pushing through,” because there’s no guarantee that you’ll still be yourself at the end of the road. Honestly, I don’t know if I’d still be here if I continued to push through the pain. I don't know if I’d still be here if my family and a close friend hadn’t noticed the signs, and I’m so thankful they did.
I’m now on the mend mentally, and slowly working my way back to being ok. One of the first steps down this road is starting to say no, even when I want to say yes. Accepting less responsibility and taking time for myself. Putting myself first when I can and continuing to take care of myself when I can’t and finding fulfillment outside of achievement.
I know this may not be the post you were expecting, but thank you for taking the time to read it even through the darker parts. If you know anybody going through a hard time right now, or even just need a resource for when a time like this may come, please pass these along or save the resources I’ve listed below.
National Suicide Hotline: 1-800-273-8255
Trevor Project: 1-866-488-7386
Suicide Prevention Resource Center: https://www.sprc.org/