My Mental Health Story

Coming to terms with my mental health has been an ongoing battle for as long as I can remember. I can vividly remember stumbling through life, feeling stuck in a deep hole at just 12 years old. I didn’t know what I was feeling was not normal, no one talked about preteens and the possibility of them being depressed or struggling with their mental health. Yet, there I was fighting depression. And instead of acknowledging it and working toward getting help I chalked it up to me being too sensitive and I needed to get over it. After a few years I started high school and threw myself into getting involved in hopes that keeping busy would keep me occupied. And it did. But I also managed to find people that were overwhelmingly supportive and helped me to get through the darkest times. It was during this time that I found someone that was my warrior, constantly trying to help me discuss what was going on and educate me. She took it upon herself to try to help me understand and label my mental illness. Of course, I was very hesitant to admit that I was struggling, and it usually led to fights. However, she didn’t give up on pushing me and eventually I decided to suck it up and come to terms with the fact that something wasn’t quite right. This was devastating. I didn’t want to be labeled, and sure as hell didn’t want to have to tell anyone what I was going through. Just her. She could be the only person that knew. I couldn’t tell my parents, not my friends, I didn’t want to be the “crazy one” in the family or in my friend group. So, I kept it to myself and didn’t tell anyone.

Going into senior year of high school I felt on top of the world but was soon knocked down with what seemed to be loss after loss. As I stumbled through the year, I felt like I had a handle on myself and was doing well. I applied for colleges, made a plan, graduated, and started moving forward toward my future. As I started college, I was super anxious as any new freshman would be and I was nervous about what was to come but I pushed myself to try to enjoy it. However, this was short lived. As fast as school approached and began to fly by, my mental health issues returned but this time they were different. I had my first ever panic attack, I began to avoid social events, gave up one of my greatest passions to avoid all of the expectations and people that came along with it. All of these things were hitting me from all directions, and it seemed like I blinked and lost 3 years. I lost 3 years of my life to anxiety. Again, I have to credit that same person in my life for helping me come to this realization and helping me grasp the idea of living with it. She listened to everything I had to tell her, she made sure to listen to me and everything I had to say. She talked when I needed her to and helped me cope with the idea of letting other people know. I always thought that if I just waited it out eventually it would be something I could handle when it comes to insurance, making sure my parents never had to know. But it was too late, my mom knew I was struggling and after hearing her friend talk about how her daughter sought help, my mom approached me. I couldn’t avoid it any longer, so I took a breath and decided to take control of my mental health.