I started having panic attacks in the summer of last year. I thought I had anxiety before having these panic attacks, but I didn't take these thoughts with a whole lot of seriousness. I felt uncomfortable sharing these anxious thoughts with my parents. I started having more depressive thoughts during the start of the pandemic, and they continuously got worse as the pandemic continued. Again, I felt uncomfortable sharing these depressive thoughts. I figured everyone was having these thoughts during the pandemic. Looking back, I realize there was definitely an increase of people suffering from mental health issues during the pandemic, but I still should have said something to my parents. My panic attacks always happened in front of my parents, but I don't think they took them as seriously as they should've at first. This led me to become even more anxious. I was afraid they would judge me because I was having panic attacks. In my mind, having panic attacks and depressive thoughts meant I was straying away from the perfect child they wanted me to be. When I felt a panic attack coming, I tried to talk myself through getting up in my own room or away from people so I felt people wouldn't judge me. "Just get up to your room, then the panic attack can come. Not in front of Mom and Dad, I don't want them to think I'm weird." is typically what went on through my head. I never was able to make it up to my room. After each panic attack, I thought to myself "Maybe this is the one that will make mom and dad take me to the doctor and get checked out, there's something wrong with me.".
Finally, in April of 2022, my parents took me to get checked out. Through different tests, two doctors determined I had anxiety, and pretty severe anxiety at that. They also both told me I may have depression. The doctors said they didn't want to diagnose me with depression yet, even though my test results said I had depression. They told me I should be monitoring myself for depression and gave me a stack of papers with therapists on them about three inches thick. After the two doctors left, a med student came in and said "So I hear you have anxiety and maybe depression, can you participate in my study?". The student had the loudest voice I had ever heard and didn't even close the door when he said this. I felt embarrassed that the entire doctor's office had just heard I had anxiety. I almost broke down crying in the office. Just like with my parents, I felt like my mental health was not of concern to the doctors. They didn't spend much time with me at all and the way the med student looked at my mental health, it was just another variable he could use in his study. Nobody in the office seemed to be concerned with me or how I was feeling. As soon as I got home, I cried. I felt so violated and uncomfortable. I knew I had to do something to get better, but with everything that led up to the doctor's visit, I felt there was no end in sight.
I was put on a waitlist for four months for a therapist. I thought to myself "What do they think is going to happen in those four months? My anxiety is going to fix itself? I'm not going to have any more panic attacks? What am I supposed to do?". Those were the longest four months of my entire life. I just started going to my therapist a couple weeks ago, and so far it's going ok. I am hopeful I will get better, but time will tell.
My mental health has changed my view on a variety of topics. I used to be very Christian. My aunt is a pastor and my whole family is religious. Even most of my friends are Christian. When I started having panic attacks and my mental health was getting worse, I was told by some friends that "If you just pray to Jesus, he will take it all away.". I tried. I tried praying. I tried praying to Jesus. I tried praying to any God I could possibly think of to take this mental pain away from me. I tried so hard to believe that one day, Jesus would just take it all away. No amount of praying could take my mental health concerns away. I drifted away from religion all together, and while I have nothing against people who are religious, my mental health has changed the way I view religion for myself as a choice in my life. I aspire to become a lawyer in the future. I am concerned I might have a panic attack inside of the courtroom when I would defend a client. This thought was one of the turning points for me; I knew if I wanted to achieve my dreams of being a lawyer, I needed to get help. My relationships with people have changed drastically. I am becoming more open with not only my parents with my mental health, but my friends as well. I check in with my friends and their wellbeing more often. Sometimes, I think if someone would have just checked in with me more often, I might have been ok for a little bit longer. I recognize the importance of other's mental health because of what I have gone through.
My experience with mental health has shaped the way I view religion for myself, as I no longer identify with a religion. My relationships with my friends and family have forever changed, and I figured out if I want to accomplish my dreams of becoming a lawyer, I need to take my mental health more seriously. I know now that my mental health is important and that I will get better.