Through the Dark Cavern: Sofia’s Story

By Sofia //

Editor’s note: This article references a suicide attempt.

I was diagnosed with Generalised Anxiety Disorder on 2 July 2020. I was 13 years old. Questions pounded my head like a series of waves: what had I done wrong? What was I supposed to do now? Am I going to be like this for life? This marked the beginning of my descent into the dark cavern.

Then, on 20 Jan 2023, I attempted suicide by overdose. Although the overdose wasn’t severe enough to render me unconscious, I was transported to the A&E department of Tan Tock Seng Hospital by ambulance. As I lay on the hospital bed in the emergency room, I read the horrified looks on my parents’ faces. This time, the questions swarmed in my head like buzzing bees trapped in a hive. Have I let them down? Am I a bad daughter? Am I a burden to them? In that moment I felt I had hit rock bottom – the deepest part of the dark cavern.

That said, being at rock bottom meant the only way to look was up. Amidst the darkness, I saw a sliver of light – the profound realisation that things could only get better.

I knew I had to make some changes in my life, but I just didn’t know what they were yet. However, I repeatedly told myself: “Choosing to pick yourself up, over and over again, is courage.” And so I decided to give life another try. What followed was a long and arduous journey. 

An unavoidable part of this journey was returning to school after my suicide attempt. Having spent nearly a month recovering at home, stepping back into the school environment, especially as a student grappling with severe anxiety, felt like navigating a slippery and treacherous path. The walls were jagged, damp, and cold. The air around me was heavy. Each step forward was small and tentative, as if I might fall at any moment. I constantly worried about how my classmates, peers, and teachers perceived me. Are they judging me for what I did? Do they think I’m weak? Do I still have friends to support me? On some days, the anxiety was so debilitating that I would be forced to skip class. 

It turned out that there were indeed people who looked out for me, like light cutting through the darkness. These are the people who show up in times of silence, even when I don’t explicitly ask for help. They extend a helping hand to get me back onto my feet no matter how many times I slip. Among them, one person stands out – my teacher Ms Jolenta. She was a solid rock beneath my faltering steps. She consistently checked in on me, both before my suicide attempt and after my return. She would stop me along the corridors to ask how I’m doing. As I grew to trust her more and more, I would ask to have a chat with her, and she would always be open to listen. She showed me what it was like to be loved, and helped me learn to love myself more. She consistently reminded me that my anxiety does not define my identity, and that I am so much more. 

Practising self-compassion allowed me to see more than just darkness – that there were also gems embedded in the cavern’s walls. My thoughts began to shift: My mental health condition doesn’t define me. I am resilient. I am a good friend. My story can encourage others. When times get tough and I feel the cavern closing in, I continue to breathe. One breath at a time. It is okay to move at a slower pace than others. Compare your progress to yesterday. Acknowledge even the smallest steps forward. After all, progress need not be leaps and bounds; sometimes, it is simply to approach each day with bravery. I learnt that caring for myself during this journey boils down to: allowing myself to rest, taking my antidepressants regularly, and striving to live in accordance with my values. 

Each person has their own “dark cavern”. Some people may navigate theirs more easily or more quickly than others. As for me, navigating my dark cavern of anxiety will be a life-long journey. Will I ever get out of it? I won’t know unless I resolve to face what lies ahead.

I choose to embrace the reality that there will be both good days and bad, and that I am not the only one who struggles.

To my wonderful friends and teachers, I love you all so much. Thank you for everything that you have done for me. I wouldn’t have been able to write these words without you. And to everyone reading this, whether you have a mental condition or not, I want you to know that you matter. Give yourself a huge hug, because you are worthy of love and care, especially from yourself. 

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Sofia is a 16-year-old student. She loves learning about other people’s stories and increasing awareness about mental health. Sofia hopes to contribute to a more empathetic society that supports people with mental health conditions.

Illustration by writer, Sofia.