Optimism

“What’s the point?” Jesse’s dull dark blue eyes wandered aimlessly— failing to find focus. Her unkempt, uneven, hand-cut, black short hair still somehow managed to knot itself just like the tangle of the conflict in her mind.

“I am failing all my classes. I haven’t attended in almost a month!” Clothes lay scattered across the entirety of her dorm room matching the lack of decorations on the wall. The white wall was quite literally a blank canvas that conveniently mirrored the lack of identity within the struggling college student. Her unmade bed screamed to be washed.

“I haven’t showered in a week…it doesn’t matter anyway.” She glanced away from her laptop for a few seconds, then revisited the screen that resided our conversation.

“It doesn’t matter,” she continued, “We are all going to die one day, why should I keep going,” After a slight pause and an intentional avoidance of eye contact, she restated her despair: “Why should I keep fighting?” Her eyes were now glossy. Her face was now puffy.

“Why not?” I asked in response to her rhetorical questions. Jesse’s tears slowed down until coming to a sluggish stop. Then, her eyes shot towards the screen; followed by her knotted hair and puffy face.

I proceeded to elaborate: “If we are all going to die one day, why shouldn’t we live our lives to our fullest?” Entranced by the seemingly simple shift in thought process, she sat still in silence. In contrast, her lips looked as if they were about to explode with words that were suppressed by the little control she had left.

“If it doesn’t matter if you shower, why not shower anyway? It will make you feel better.” My optimism did not phase her. In fact, I could feel her intense stare pierce me through the video call. Her fierce blue eyes now shined full with focus and she sat tall in her seat. Not long after, the tight seal on her lips broke:

“It would not make me feel better, though. Because nothing matters in the grand scheme of things. It does not matter if I shower or not. It just does not matter.”

Following this overwhelmingly pessimistic sequence of words, her posture returned to a slouched position and her face melted. To combat this approach, I took a silent deep breath and pondered what reply could possibly change her perspective:

“Then make it matter.”

The side eye that emerged silently screamed her disbelief in my language. I knew I could not waste any more time, so I proceeded:

“I know you, Jesse. We grew up together. I know you keep your secrets; as do I. And that’s fine. I have kept secrets as well. I may not understand exactly what you are going through or what resulted in…this situation. But I’ve been in a similar situation,”

Her gaze softened. She looked as if she were about to explode with a new fountain of tears.

“I didn’t shower for weeks. I isolated myself from class…and everyone. Including you. For that, I am sorry.”

Her shoulders relaxed and before she looked back towards the ground, she made eye contact with me for a split second.

“I had to change my mindset,” I stated confidently, “I know it may feel like nothing matters, and to be honest: ultimately, that is mostly true. Because, whether we like it or not, not everyone is going to be like Martin Luther King Jr or Albert Einstein; but that is okay. It’s okay. It is okay,” I repeated the last part in hopes of reassuring my own beliefs. After a slight pause, I refound my earlier confidence:

“What matters is how we perceive the world. What matters is how we perceive it and what exactly we do with our perceptions,” my voice raised in volume and in power:

“That is why it does matter whether I shower or not. That is why it matters whether I have a clean environment or a messy one. That is why it matters if WE allow ourselves to talk to people before it’s too late. That’s why I’m glad you decided to call me.”

By now, Jesse’s eyes were glued onto me. I hope my little speech did something. Just in case, I added a little more:

“Look, we may not be as close as we were before. But, you’re my friend. And I don't want to lose you. I understand that mindset won’t change everything. For that, you’ll need to seek professional help. I may not be a professional, but I am a friend that can listen. I am proud of you for reaching out to me.”

Jesse’s tears felt as if they were flooding from my display. We sat in silence for a good bit before she replied:

“Thank you, Theresa. Thanks for listening and being here for me. It means a lot,” her tears dried and her eyes returned to normal.

“Of course,” I responded. “I’m always here for you.”

“I just don’t know if I can change and if I’ll even be capable of graduating–like my parents wanted me to.”

“You can change and you will if you want to change enough. It may not seem like it, but you’ll make it. I believe in you,”

“Thanks,” she sounds like she does not believe me.

“Listen, I know the world feels like it is falling apart. And to be quite honest, in many ways it is. Don’t let that discourage you, though. Know that no one can control everything that happens to them. Just know that there are things that you can control. More often than not, those things are more important than anything else in the world…like your mental health. So, start small. Go take that shower. Start the snowball effect up the hill!”

Despite Jesse’s overall look of fear and uncertainty, a small smile emerged. I smiled back before adding some more words of encouragement:

“And besides, you have all the time in the world. We have all the time in the world.”