“You’re too young to be this neurotic”, my father once told me. I was in high school at the time and already had many years of dealing with anxiety, panic attacks, and a constant worry. Unfortunately, I was raised in a household that did not fully understand mental illness and therefore ignored it. I did my best to hide my feelings from my parents because I knew it would upset them.
The first panic attack that I can remember happened in middle school. By high school, I had a few years of struggling with depression, anxiety, and suicidal thoughts. I assumed this was just what the average teenager dealt with and did my best to “radiate positivity”. If you asked any of my friends from back then, I doubt they would realize how much I struggled. I saw people who had it worse than me and thought that meant that I should not share my burdens with others.
As a result, my relationships with my friends and family deteriorated. I was always trying to put on a happy face, but inside I was struggling and withdrawing from my peers. When I was in college, I started seeing my first therapist. I did not tell my parents, but she started my life-long journey to help me gather the tools I needed to unpack my burdens and recognize when something was not right.
Shortly after college, a friend committed suicide. He had so slowly and quietly shut everyone out of his life that we never even realized it until he was gone. It was his death that taught me the value of life. I saw how his death left a shattered, ragged hole in the world where he had once shown so brilliantly. After he passed, I reconnected with old friends and worked to strengthen the bonds of family. I swore that no matter how bad things got, I would never commit suicide myself because I did not wish to inflict that same pain I had experienced upon my loved ones. I also swore that I would do everything in my power to keep others from following that same path.
A few years passed and my mental health deteriorated to the lowest point it had ever been. I sought a new therapist and the very first thing she asked me, after introductions, was if I wanted to be on medication. I was hesitant towards the idea and wanted to seek tools through knowledge for fixing my problems, not through medications. I did not really explore my feelings towards medications at the time, but I just knew that I wanted to avoid it if possible. My therapist was very insistent that I be put on medication and that immediately made me distrust her, with that distrust growing each time she pushed to get me to try medication. It was not a good match and it made me distrust therapists for a few years. I quit going and tried to limp along with the few tools my therapists had recommended that were not medicine related.
When Covid-19 hit, I started struggling daily with my mental health. I reached out to the Employee Assistance Program (EAP) offered through my job and spoke to a counselor who referred to me by my first name and gave me tools to work through my struggles. Unfortunately, the EAP could only offer five counseling sessions to anyone before he had to recommend me to a full-time therapist. I felt easier about this transition when my EAP therapist said, “I know of someone who I think would be a good fit for you”.
Upon meeting my new therapist, I instantly felt like she was a much better fit for me than any of the previous people I had spoken to. She taught me tools, listened to my struggles, and gently suggested medicine in addition to the coping strategies and tips to recognize an incoming panic attack and deescalate it. I was struggling and was desperate for relief. Since I trusted this therapist and she made the decision to take medication my own choice, I decided to give it a chance. When I really thought about why I had not sought medicine earlier, I realized it was because I thought medicine was a sign of weakness; that it somehow made me less than others because I needed to rely on store bought happiness. I spoke with my doctor, and she started me an antidepression medication. I kept a diary during this time and immediately saw the huge impact that this tiny daily pill made in my world.
I was able to start recognizing when I was in situations that made me panicky. I could remember to apply the coping strategies that I had been taught. I was less angry and frustrated because I could understand where my emotions were coming from. Without this huge amount of anxiety and depression taking up so much of my thought space, I was able to spend more time doing the things I loved like reading and reconnecting with friends. My relationship with my family vastly improved because I was able to be honest and set boundaries and stand up for myself.
This year I decided to go back to school and found a master’s program in Thanatology. Thanatology is the study of death, dying, and the practices associated with it (such as religion, counseling, planning, etc.). My goal is to be a guide to those with struggling with grief to find peace.
My journey with mental health has allowed me to understand that the human mind is not always logical. I have learned to be patient and be more understanding to the emotions of those around me. I have learned that medicine is not evil and that lying to yourself gets you nowhere. I want to pass on what I have learned and will continue to learn in my own mental health journey to others.