What do you see in the picture above? A young girl who appears to be happy? Well, that girl is me and what you don't see in this picture is the vicious and on-going battling that I am fighting on the inside each and every day, along with thousands of other people. I have been suffering with Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD), Severe Depression, and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD) for the past 4 years. During those 4 years, there have been ups and downs I always thought that being strong meant being quiet. Very few people understood the feelings that took over me or even understood what I was going through but even more than that, people judged me. However, I have come to realize that speaking out does not only help you but it helps many other people dealing with the same illness.
I craved to start a blog for a few reasons: to try to inspire others to challenge mental health stigma, to parade a message of hope, and to bring attention and awareness to mental illnesses about how they are extremely misunderstood and invisible. Mental illnesses are real, although you cannot see them. But like any other physical illnesses they can cause a great deal of suffering. I have become determined to speak out and break the silence that surrounds mental health. No one hides the fact they have diabetes or cancer in the same way people hide their mental illnesses, and in the 21st century, that's just not right. I don’t have enough fingers to count on both hands how many times I have been judged, made fun of, or told "it's all in your head" when I choose to speak out. My favorite line is “You just want self pity”. Aside from the negative comments I've endured, I also have people who stand by me to this day. Through my blog posts, I hope to express my path to the person I have come today and reflect on how I’ve come this far. I will post about the challenges I face everyday and the old/new techniques I use to overcome my anxiety in every day life situations. My hope is that I can relate to those who are suffering from the same things I do because even though we feel alone, we are not. I'd like to make one thing clear and it is that I am not writing this for sympathy. So if you want to comment that mental illnesses don't exist or we're all faking it or even telling our stories for sympathy and attention, take that rubbish elsewhere.
So here’s my story...
I was diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD), Severe Depression, and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD) at Butler Hospital in 2012 when I was 18 years old. It was a harsh time for me as I was a freshman in college and living an hour and a half away from my home. The doctor at Butler told me that I needed to drop out of school for the time being so I could get my life back to normal. However, I refused to do this because I was transferring to a different college the following year. I ended up dropping 3 classes and was able to only be up at school 3 nights a week.
It all started one night back in November 2012. I thought I was having a great time with my boyfriend at the time and I randomly twitched. I freaked myself out and the twitching got out of control. My body went numb and I could hear my heart pounding so loudly I thought it would come out of my chest. The room seemed to be getting smaller and both my mind and sight went completely blank. Tears ran my face as I pleaded for help asking my boyfriend what was happening to me. I couldn't stop freaking out and began to profusely vomit. The only thought in my head was "I am going to die".
After what I felt like was forever but was nearly close to 45 minutes, my boyfriend calmed me down and talked me through whatever was happening to me. I thought that moment of intense fear was over until we laid down in my bed and the truly terrifying feeling returned. The only thing I remember was my face in my pillow saying to my boyfriend "I want to die- I want to die- I really want to die". I just could not escape this horrendous feeling that was taking over my whole body. After quite some time, I fell asleep.
The next day, I tried to forget what happened because I couldn't even make sense of it. I didn’t bother to tell my Mom because I thought it would never happen again, until I was laying in my bed the next night and the feeling returned. Just as bad, if not worse. I went into the living room where my Mom was watching TV and started bawling my eyes out and uncontrollably shaking. My head rested in my lap and my legs were trembling as I told her I didn't want to live anymore. I explained what happened the night before and I looked up to see my Mom crying, which made everything worse. She felt utterly helpless and ended up taking me to the Emergency Room later that evening to find out I had suffered from a severe panic attack.
I was desperate for any help I could get. It was hard to get the help I needed when every place I called asked if I had attempted suicide and when the answer was no, they just shut me out. It’s almost like no one took me serious. My mom fought to get me into the best programs in Rhode Island. Within the next couple of weeks, I had 2 therapists, took part in weekly neuropsych therapy sessions, and attended the Butler Hospital Partial Program (which was exceedingly helpful). However, these panic attacks went on for a extensive amount of time and I began to feel empty pits in my stomach everyday. I did not understand why I was becoming depressed but after the mental health evaluation and speaking to my doctor, I realized that anxiety and depression come hand in hand. I would lay on the couch for DAYS. Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse was when I started getting really bad surrealism. I couldn't feel who I was anymore, everything seemed like a blur, and I felt like I had lost everything. I was depressed, angry, embarrassed and ashamed because I couldn’t cope with what was happening to me. Every doctor that I went to suggested I try an SSRI along with therapy to see if I could get any better. I was completely against medicine but I needed to feel something again other than the negative emotions my body was emerged with. Most of these medications made me feel even 10 times WORSE but when I tried Zoloft, my life felt like it was slowly piecing itself together again.
6 months later, I felt like my life had returned. I went back to school to finish up my Bachelors Degree and have been living on my own for 3 years. Instead of having 3 panic attacks a week, it changed to 3 panic attacks a month. All the therapy sessions I have done were of course helpful but they just didn’t seem to change how my body felt. As much as some people are against medicine for mental illnesses, I felt like Zoloft had truly saved my life. I had become stable and happy again and realized there was actually a light at the end of the tunnel.
This leaves me where I am today. 4 years later. I am 22 years old with a Bachelor's degree from Johnson and Wales University in Sports/Entertainment/Event Management and a concentration in Marketing and Sales Revenue. I also will be attending MBA Program at JWU in the winter. I find ways to get through my days- some days are better than others but I always think to myself "never give up". I have to endure millions of negative thoughts daily, which sneak into my mind in every possible situation. Whether it's waking up or going out with my friends, my anxiety will always try to ruin it. Which has lead me to become stronger and to not let something like this control the beautiful life I was given. It's always been very difficult for me to accept that I'm feeling very anxious or depressed when you are surrounded by the overwhelming love from family and friends, have a degree in hand, for the most part healthy, and stable on my own. It is hard to accept wanting to disappear in to the thin of the air when you think about the future. But these are things I continue to work on daily and want to speak out to help others suffering as well. Once I learned to accept my diagnosis and know that it was going to be with me forever I was left with a choice: to learn different ways to cope with it or let it overtake me. You may think that choice is obvious, but for someone who has lived with a mental illness it is not that simple. I have let my anxiety ruin many friendships, relationships and moments I will never be able to get back. But... here's to a new start and a new chance to tackle the obstacles that lie ahead.
