I asked my daughter to draw me a print: What If It All Works Out. It hangs in my kitchen, right where I’ll see it every day. She made me a sticker version too, small enough to place on the back of my phone case so the question can follow me.
Some days the worry wins before I even notice it's started, and I have to stop myself and choose the other question instead. It's not easy, but I look at the print and the sticker on my phone because I need something in my view that argues back.
Life is so stressful now, between the politics, the cruelty, and the lack of empathy we’re witnessing in real time. Young people are struggling in ways I never did. I grew up in an unconventional and often unstable life, but it was a time when the only screens we watched were television sets with three channels. The news came on the TV once a day, and the morning newspaper was delivered daily on our doorstep. As a child, I was surrounded by cousins and family, and our days were filled with outdoor play, hugs, and in-person connection. My teenage years were a string of live music shows, parties, and late nights at coffee shops with friends and conversation. There was so much to recap, so many memories made, and so much laughter.
Today, many of the young people I know feel hopeless and depressed. Some of them, on their hardest days, are wondering if it’s worth it to keep going. And there doesn’t seem to be a cure for it. Not a pep talk, or a solution that sticks. All it ever took to jolt me out of a bad day was my mother’s unique brand of snap-out-of-it love, pulling me back into the present. She’d belt out one of her favorites, “Get Happy,” the old standard about shaking off your troubles and chasing all your blues away, or “Tomorrow,” the one every optimist seems to know by heart, insisting the sun comes back no matter how gray the day was. If only a song could fix this problem.
Depression rates among teens and young adults are climbing: just over twenty percent of teens aged 12-17 report a major depressive episode and among young adults, rates have more than doubled since 2017, from 13 percent to nearly 27 percent today. Suicide rates have risen significantly and is the second leading cause of death among young people aged 10-24, with Black youth ages 10-19 seeing the largest increase. The Trevor Project reports that LGBTQ+ youth are roughly three to four times more likely to attempt suicide than non-LGBTQ+ youth and rates are even higher for transgender and nonbinary youth.
These statistics should have us screaming HELP!!! from the rooftops. This is a national crisis.
There are days when I feel helpless, and the hardest part isn’t just the worry. It’s never knowing the right thing to say to someone who is struggling, never knowing which words will actually make a difference and which ones might make things worse.
The Cleveland Clinic reports that depression is highly treatable and manageable so that individuals can live healthy lives using care plans like talk therapy, prescribed medications, and lifestyle changes. This offers hope, but the person struggling has to believe it, and they have to want to stay around.
I understand that the future looks different than the one this generation was promised. The constant barrage of bad news, and a world that often feels like it's unraveling, leave young people with the idea that maybe the noise, the scroll, the ache of never quite measuring up, is just what life is now. Even worse, that maybe there isn't much of a future to look forward to at all.
I refuse to accept this. The rebel in me wants to say to every young person struggling, that staying alive is the rebellion. Every morning that you get up anyway, you're breaking the rules the world tried to hand you. And the future you can't quite picture right now needs you in it. It needs the person you're going to become, the one who stays stubborn enough to help build something better than what you were handed. You are not a statistic, or a headline, or a percentage, or a sad footnote in someone else's story. You are too good for this. Nobody is promising a perfect life, but there is so much still to find inside an imperfect one.
I wish I could offer something that would help, but the best I can do is what I always do when I feel scared or anxious. I make a list. So here’s are fifty things to hold onto, fifty things to be grateful for, fifty things to hope for. Fifty things that might make you stop and think that maybe these bad feelings will pass, or as we say in Italian, tutto passa, that the pain is temporary and the bad days will end. That this too shall pass.
Work that gives you purpose.
So many people who already love you.
People you haven’t met yet who will love you.
Things left to create.
New music to listen to.
Old songs that make you remember the good, and the bad, but feel something.
Ordinary moments.
A laugh that catches you off guard.
Old friends who have your back.
Meeting new friends.
Creating art, or admiring someone’s art.
Music that makes you weep.
Concerts you’ve seen and will never forget.
Concerts you’ve yet to see.
Achieving a goal.
Falling in love.
Having your heart broken, and then loving again, wiser.
Books you’ve yet to read.
Sharing your unique talents with the world.
Films you’ve yet to see.
Being loved by a child.
Watching a child grow.
Making a child laugh.
Making love to someone, or just feeling their skin against yours.
Being held by someone you love in the dark times.
Being held by someone you love in the good times.
A warm bed to sleep in.
Traveling to new places.
Traveling back to old places.
Learning something new.
Spending time in nature.
Mornings that will eventually feel light again.
Laughing with friends so hard that you can barely breathe.
Meeting one of your idols.
Writing something, a story, a song.
The feeling of gratitude for a family who loves you, or a chosen family.
A meal cooked by someone who loves you, or for someone you love.
The first warm day after a long winter.
The first cold day after a long summer.
Tasting something you will never forget.
An unforgettable experience with a friend.
Living in a city you’ve always dreamed of.
Being a good friend to someone.
Coming home to someone you love.
Road trips.
Walking in the rain, no umbrella, feeling the wetness on your face and body.
Someone thanking you for being the one who made a difference in their life.
Someone remembering the small thing you mentioned once, in passing.
The version of yourself a year from now, who knows something you don’t yet.
Looking back on your life with a wisdom you only get from living it, and realizing it wasn’t so bad after all.
For now, I’ll keep looking at the print and the sticker on my phone, and I’ll keep asking the question, on the hard days and the easy ones:
What if it all works out?
If you’re struggling with depression or suicidal thoughts, you’re not alone. Contact the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline by calling or texting 988 (US), or text HOME to 741741 to reach the Crisis Text Line. To contact The Trevor Project, go to: thetrevorproject.org/get-help/
Brilliant invitation to LIVE on the planet and make the BEST life we can muster.
Thank you, Toni❣️
My Dad used to sing this to me all the time. This, the guy who survived three wars: WWII. Korea and Vietnam and who grew up in the throes of poverty and the Great Depression. Enjoy!
https://youtu.be/M5oXKnF9rpg?si=CNOAeAdHRJTCZjd8