Personal Statement to return to Harvard

The factors that contributed to my depression and anxiety in Germany have largely been eliminated, either by circumstance or through active effort on my part. I’ve corrected my level of anti-depressants by seeing a psychiatrist- first in Germany, and then in Denver- so that I’m no longer serotonin-deficient to the point of incapacitation. I’ve spent my leave of absence living with my sister and her children, so I haven’t been isolated as I was in Germany. I’ve also recognized the danger of acute emotional reliance on one person. So, whereas in Germany, my negative reaction to my switch in medication and subsequent betrayal (to my mind) by several friends and my boyfriend of two years was largely endured alone because I had come to rely solely on my boyfriend, I now have a network of support from family members and reliable friends who were formerly unaware of my depression. Before I left Germany I could barely get out of bed or feed myself. For the past few months I’ve been responsible not only for myself, but also for my nieces and nephew whom I have helped parent. I collect them everyday from the bus stop, walk them home and make sure they get a snack and complete their homework. I take them to the library, we make cupcakes; I arbitrate their meaningless squabbles. Anyone who knows me understands what this says about my current level of stability as I quite admittedly loathe children and find them difficult to be around.

Since coming to Denver I’ve been active socially, which is one of the first impulses to vanish during a depressive episode. I have a best friend who is a good deal older than me and whom I see a few times a week. I occasionally accompany my sister gay two-stepping and, when not completely disparaging of the entire gender, go on dates with boys. I put on makeup before I go out.

The true reason that I know I’m ready to come back is that I’m reading again. I’m learning for fun again with no impetus other than my own curiosity. I read at least two books a week and, for the past couple of weeks, have been working through the writings of Nietzsche- and taking notes. I think most people assume that I left school because I was sad. However, this is not exactly the case. I’ve struggled with depression since I was 8-years old. If “being sad” were enough to make me leave school, I would never have gotten into Harvard in the first place. I left because I recognized that I would have just struggled through my senior year, enduring school until graduation. That’s not the tone I want any academic experience of mine to have. If I’m going to be in school, I want to BE there. Excited about my classes, interested in my reading, etc. I failed one of my classes in Germany because I was too depressed to find out when the final exam was. Not only did I not show up for it, I couldn’t even get over my anxiety long enough to ask when it was taking place. That alone was what decided me in favor of taking a leave of absence. Now I already know what classes I’m planning to shop because I’m so excited about studying again. In fact, while I was here, I even started taking a 9 am Hebrew class for fun.

Despite all of this improvement, I’m hardly naïve enough about my condition to think that my life will magically be all rainbows and kittens when I get back to Cambridge. At this point in my life, after over a decade of struggling with depression, it’s not the sort of thing I expect to just vanish one day. I will go through times of intense sadness and loneliness and despair over the next months. I have in the past and I will in the future. The difference between this coming semester and the one that is about to end is my baseline mental state. I’m stable enough and enthusiastic enough during the good times to cope with the inevitable lows. I know that I can make it to classes because unlike in June, I don’t spend all day sleeping. I work weekends at Freedom Service Dogs, a facility that adopts abandoned animals and trains them to be service dogs. I have to show up Saturday and Sunday mornings at 8 am to take care of the dogs until 1 pm. Then I have to return in the evenings from 5 to 7 in order to feed them dinner and make sure that they are all healthy and happy.

I’m not sure what else there is to say. I guess this is the last thing I’d like to add. When I was in Germany and my friends called my Resident Dean because they thought I was going to kill myself, my parents wanted me to come back to the States immediately. So did almost everyone else for that matter. And they were all somewhat stunned that I wasn’t ready to immediately jump on a plane and flee to America. But what I’ve learned over the years is that being clinically depressed doesn’t mean that you put your life on hold indefinitely. If I were to wait for a time when I was blissfully happy and never expected to be depressed again to study or to travel or to date or to live, I would probably spend the rest of my days hiding in my parents’ basement. And the people who realized this and encouraged me to stay in Europe and fight for the study abroad experience I’d been waiting years to have, were almost all people who have also lived through depression and therefore understand that ceasing to live and strain for what you want doesn’t make you happier; it simply makes you stagnant.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=915987&forum_id=2#10719781)

No wonder they kicked her out.

"I occasionally accompany my sister gay two-stepping and, when not completely disparaging of the entire gender, go on dates with boys."

Pretentious, awkward, and cutsy-poo.

"I read at least two books a week and, for the past couple of weeks, have been working through the writings of Nietzsche- and taking notes."

The writings of Nietzsche!

"I’ve struggled with depression since I was 8-years old."

How long has she struggled with hyphens?

"[W]hile I was here, I even started taking a 9 am Hebrew class for fun."

*nudge nudge wink wink*

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=915987&forum_id=2#10720108)

http://www.xoxohth.com/thread.php?thread_id=834567&mc=16&forum_id=2

Highlights...

http://duckie.tumblr.com/post/30038757/dear-wendy

dear wendy,

now would be a lovely time for a sister sister chat. I can teach you all the new words I picked up in the locked psych ward. Like 'œumbringenâ' (to kill oneself)

my skype name is: heidelbergduck.

can't wait to hear from you!

love

Courtney Kennedy

http://heidelbergduck.livejournal.com/3584.html

Could you be any less friendly?

• Mar. 3rd, 2008 at 10:08 PM

Last night I didn't sleep. So today was sort of a blurrrrr. I woke up and did some things. Class happened. There was a presentation of some sort. There was singing involved. Then I had a nap. Dragged myself out of bed with the greatest reluctance and regret that I'd made plans to interact with someone. Had Cuba's favorite drink with my Sprachparterin. Arrived at my psychiatry appointment. Late. After having walked around for half an hour looking for the right building. And asking several people. And panicking. Dr Wiesemann was less than amused at my tardiness. It was only 13 minutes. Go fuck yourself.

We sit down in his office and he stares at me and asks gruffly, "Was ist Ihr Problem?" No hello, no nice to meet you. No given that you're in a psychiatrist's office you've probably been having a hard time, how have you been doing? So I started rattling off and he listens and finally asks me something about a Beweisung. I have NO IDEA what this word means, and ask him to explain it. And he looks PUT OUT ABOUT IT. Annoyance actually registers on his face. I'M SPEAKING TO YOU IN GERMAN YOU ASSHOLE. If you want perfect comprehension then stop being a lazy bastard and speak to me in English. You don't see me criticizing you because you're not fluent in English. After about 10 minutes he prescribes me Effexor (what my sister took), and tells me to reduce my Citalopram from 40 MG to 20. At the same time. Is this normal? I thought I was supposed to go off one and then start the other. But apparently I can start it right away. Hurrah?

My friend Tara had an appointment right after me (she's manic-depressive) and she was even more upset about her appointment than I was. We cooked dinner together (there were vegetables involved! her idea, not mine.) and then she stayed over for some drinks and company. Now I'm about to watch Braveheart, when I should be doing my homework. Good job, Courtney.

Also. When can I have German friends?

there is no emoticon to express the depths of my despair

• Mar. 10th, 2008 at 11:33 AM

alone. sick. in a crazy country, where apparently everyone goes to the doctor at the first sign of a scratchy throat. receiving concerned looks from Americans who are not yet my friends, and being sent home by Germans who think I'm sick because I'm so small.

I hate other people's gratitude.

There is no one to take care of me.

you have to buy cold medicine at the pharmacy here. the drogerie only sells shampoo, tampons, and chocolate.

I am such a whiny mess when I am sick. And there is no one to receive my whiny-ness here in Krautland.

Hold on...so this Courtney Kennedy is on Effexor and Citalopram...and she hits the bars like a drunken sailor?

No wonder she gets into bar fights.

http://www.truveo.com/Kennedy-Punches-My-Groper/id/1654082042

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=915987&forum_id=2#10720103)

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=915987&forum_id=2#10720896)