In Her Own Words: Taylor Liguori | Mental Health Is Health

Maryland softball student-athlete Taylor Liguori opens up about her struggles with mental health in this powerful edition of “In Her Own Words.”

Most of the time, at 8 years old, kids are thinking about what they want to do at recess or what game they will play with their friends after school. Instead, I was thinking about WHY I was thinking so much and why it felt that my brain was shaken up like a bottle of soda and then popped open. I felt that my brain was going to explode, and at 8 years old, I had no idea why. This is where my story starts.

At around 9 years old, I was not able to answer an opinion-based question, which is tricky to understand. My brain worked in a weird way and I didn't quite understand it. So I would come home from school and get asked, "How was your day?" and I would go mute or just repeat the murmurs of "Ummm" for about 30 seconds until the person listening did not care for the answer anymore.

I remember vividly I was outside one day with my two younger brothers, and one fell off his bike, and when he came back in, he claimed the other brother pushed him. I saw the whole thing and knew the truth, but when my dad asked me what happened, I could not answer. I could not answer any question that had more than one answer because my brain had to have actual facts.

I could not live with the idea that I was possibly telling a lie. Like when asked about my day, most of the time, people just say "Good," but to give you an example of what my mind said, "Well some of it was good, but this class was awful, but I also don't remember everything I did today and I also did okay on my math test, but English was hard." This was all at the age of 8.

At this point, my parents started realizing that something was not right. After realizing that I was not faking this and just being rude by not answering, I attended my first therapy session. Shortly after, I was diagnosed with OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) and anxiety. Now when most think of OCD, they think of perfectionism, which I also had, but I also had obsessive thoughts. I continued to think about them over and over again, which is where the compulsive part comes into play.

I would think that if something was not perfect, the harm would be done to my family, and I had to do everything in even numbers. This is something to this day I actually still have to do and struggle with on a day-to-day basis. This was not something I wanted to hear so young because I had no idea what it meant.

Still, after a couple very long years in therapy, I could answer questions on my own and was more okay with some things not being perfectly perfect. Little did I know, though, that this was just a small blip in the journey I would take along the mental health train.

I was told that the way my brain was wired with OCD and this anxiety, none of it would ever just disappear, but there would be times where it was better and some not-so-good times. For about 6-7 years, I was great! I was never thinking or overthinking, and I actually felt like a normal kid. Then, in my senior year of high school, things started to get a bit rough again.

I never did well with change, and severe change started to cause old habits to come back in regard to my mental disabilities. This change being going to college. It also was not good for my mental health also finding out that the coach I had been recruited by was gone, and school started in 2 weeks. The whole thing was a big giant hot mess. Thoughts were coming back, and I decided I wanted help again.

I went to one therapy session, and honestly, I never went back. This was a hard conversation I had to have with my parents because it is never an easy task telling someone you feel off and need help. But, when I went off to college, things actually were better than expected and the friends I made just allowed all my fears to be settled. Life actually felt good for the first time in a while.

Then the pandemic hit.

The pandemic, like for a lot of people, was probably the worst thing that could have ever happened to me. At first, I was like, "Okay, let's try to see the bright side. I get to spend time with my family and watch my brothers grow up while actually being home." Slowly, this turned into me never leaving my room or getting out of bed or wanting to eat, or talking to my friends.

It turned into raging depression. And OCD. And anxiety.

I became severely depressed and began having some thoughts that were unlike what I ever had. I was always under the impression that my life was perfect. I had the most amazing family and was supported through everything I did; I was playing softball at my dream school, I had amazing friends, and so much more.

Why would I have these thoughts and feel these feelings? This took me down an even darker hole and a much harder route that I did not come back from for a couple months. Especially because through the thick of this, I was having a surgery done and could not use exercise or softball as an outlet. It felt as though my life was crumbling in front of my eyes, and I could not, and honestly did not have the willpower or strength to, do anything about it.

I was extremely blessed to have such a supportive family that helped me day in and day out to get me the help I needed and supported me through what I still to this day say were the darkest moments of my life. I would never have made it through if it were not for them and the prayers I sent to God every night. To put it in perspective, I lay in bed every night with eyes full of tears on my knees, praying for God to save me from myself. I was hopeless and saw no light at the end of the tunnel. But there was.

I'm not sitting here writing this for people to feel bad for me or for people to think I just want attention.

I am writing this to spread awareness.

I am writing this and being my most vulnerable self, sharing stories I have never said out loud to show that we have a problem and we need it to be fixed.

I am writing this for those that are afraid to share their stories because they do not want to be seen as weak, or they do not want to seek help because they are too ashamed.

I am telling everyone out there that I have never felt stronger than I do right now after sharing my entire story and the battles I have faced with myself every morning when I wake up.

We need change. We need people to put as much effort into their mental health as they do their physical health, and we need to make sure that we look out for one another. I have seen so many people, especially this past year, that have lost their battle with mental health.

I would love nothing more than to never see that happen because they know there is an ARMY of people behind them in support of them, ready to help and never judge.

We need to be better. Every single one of us. And I sit here and say that after sharing my story, hoping that even if just one person reads this and can be impacted, I have started a change for the better. 

So stand with me. Stand up for those that struggle and stand with them always.

Be an advocate.

Check on your people.

Tell the people you love every day that you love them, and tell those you are thankful for every day that you are thankful for them.

Seek help because it does not make you weak! It makes you strong!

Share your story. You'll feel amazing!

Be the change for the better. Be the reason someone shares their story and be the reason someone stays another day on this Earth.

Mental Health IS Health!