What I’ve learned is that no one cares if you’re miserable.

Misery doesn’t give you extra brownie points. It doesn’t grant you an A in the class that you’re failing. It doesn’t make your group members understand when you can’t make the meeting because you can’t get out of bed. It doesn’t make your professor understand when you break down crying, edging for the tissues, blowing your nose out (cough, cough-sophomore year).

For a while I blamed the world on my problems. I blamed people for not being able to just fully understand what I was going through. I wish they could exist in my mind for 10 minutes. I wished I could sip on a martini, tell them my problems, and we would cry and watch Dirty Dancing and Pretty Woman. I wish they would get it sometimes.

So I understand you. I truly do. When you’re crying in the stall of a public bathroom because of a midterm grade, I understand you. When you feel like you can’t take it anymore, when you push but your pushing is not good enough, I understand you. When you overhear your roommates talking about you, I love and understand you.

And I’m sorry you have to deal with it.

Now here is where I want you to listen. Do it. Go to therapy. Get the medication you need. Disregard what anyone has to say about it. There are resources to help you.

After you do these steps, and let it work, you’ll find you won’t need anyone to make you feel better. You will be feeling good on your own. You will be waking up earlier, you’ll love the taste of cake, and you’ll own the world. Slowly you will become ambitious, willing to show your creative side, more loving. You’ll be more aware of others, empathetic, more feeling. You’ll giggle a lot, even ten times more. You’ll drink wine with your friends and dance and appreciate a good book. It will start off as subtle changes until one day you wake up and realized you were the person you had always dreamed of becoming.

No one cares if you’re miserable. So choose to be happy.