Flying Low

          A death spiral. This is a term often used to describe any progressively worsening behavior or situation, but in my case it was nearly literal. Over the course of my senior year, I plunged into the deepest depression I have ever known. Though I recovered with the help of my family, I learned many powerful lessons through my struggle.
          Depression is a strange thing. Every day is different. One day, I might be content in occupying myself with reading or spending time with family, filling my days with simple, enjoyable things. However, the instant a challenge arrives, I would discover that I have no strength with which to overcome it, and I felt like I was trying to throw myself through a brick wall. However insurmountable that obstacle may seem, however, it is possible to summit this peak, and I have. I am free.
          As a complete aviation nut, I was always going to compare my life to flight. Flying high and safe is sometimes seen as the best way to live life, distant from those around you, but with no entangling relationships to tie you down or enabling others to hurt you. For years, this practice consumed me, never fully trusting in anyone except my family, always preferring "acquaintances" over friends. Unfortunately, flying high has immense downsides, like never feeling grounded by those around you because you never truly trust anyone outside of your home. You may not feel the pain of a broken relationship, but you will certainly never feel the joy of a fulfilling friendship.
          In the middle of 2018, this attitude controlled me. I was a sociable person, always making conversation with those I was spending time with. However, I never formed any real connections, and I often felt incredibly lonely in places filled with those I knew. I was living a double life, outwardly cheerful and optimistic, and inwardly impossibly obsessed with imagined personal inadequacy. Some might say that this is normal teenager behavior, but I went further. By the middle of my stressful junior year, with my grandfather terminal, my mother frequently gone caring for him, and my college classes only becoming more difficult, I asked myself why I kept getting out of bed in the morning, kept living. Family kept me from the brink. Whenever I asked if I should just give up, the thought of the effect that I would have on my family kept me firmly planted in life, even if I couldn't see a positive outcome from my current situation.
          Over the summer after my junior year, things seemed to get better. I was productive, keeping up with yardwork and housework, and enjoying life. Every day I would finish my responsibilities and immediately jump to something fun, like playing a video game or reading a book. By the end of those two months, I thought I was cured, confident that I, a mature and prepared sixteen-year-old with a driver's license, was ready to face another hectic year of school. I was wrong. The Saturday before the first day of school, I had a complete breakdown from stress and anticipation, and I was completely unable to function. Depressed, scared, feeling alone, I didn't know how I would make it through another year of this emotional trauma. However, my family recognized how far gone I was, and got me help. I talked to a councilor through my school, and over the course of the next year, she helped me learn how to deal with my perceived inadequacy.
          All my life, I had flown high, so perfectionistic that I took few risks, and as such gained few rewards. Over the next year, I learned to take more risks, "flying closer" to the ground and those around me, and even developing some true friendships along the way. I even managed to get a job, resulting in me finally developing what non-homeschoolers would call social skills, and the slightly annoying habit of responding to every thank you with a reflexive my pleasure. This has allowed me to advance myself professionally, and even land a job in my field before I arrived at ASU. Since arriving, I have faced a schedule more rigorous and stressful than anything I could imagine. I even stayed up until midnight studying for the first time in my life! (laugh it up, I know) But through all of this, I am at peace, comfortable with this low-level, risky flight, because it drives me to improve on every level. This week, I feel I have been flying through a valley, hemmed in on either side by sheer rock walls. I am driven forward through a challenging field of buttes that line the bottom of the canyon, each a test of its own. I weave and pitch between them, navigating those treacherous air currents made up of homework and studying.
          Sometimes, in the calmer moments of my flight, I wonder, is it worth it, to throw myself up against the next challenge, through the risk and difficulty, always struggling to prevent a stall. Indeed, I understand those who say to "take it easy" in life, and that low stress mentality sometimes seems worth it. To those who follow this, I was once one of you, spending my free days just having fun, putting off work until I had to do it. However, I have found that the more of yourself you put into your work, in the right environment, the better it will be and the more fulfillment you will get out of doing it. Constantly pushing yourself to be 1% better than before will allow you to accomplish more than you can possibly imagine, and momentary struggle will be just a footnote when you look back on your days. Whether it is midterm week or the day before a major paper is due, it is worth it. Self-improvement is always worth it. Looking back, that is the greatest lesson I learned. No matter how unpleasant the prospect may be, if you are developing a skill, increasing your talents, or just learning an esoteric like history, putting in the work to better yourself will pay off with satisfaction, confidence, and knowledge for your future.