When asked what brings one joy in our generation, the majority would say partying, vaping, or getting wasted, which is a teenager's ideal night out, yet I had always been different from the rest. From a young age, was very abundant and charismatic with others, I was always one to try to impress people and saw the world in colors and images in my head that only I could explain. One would say they had the most joy when they were a child, and I would belone to agree throughout my childhood, my mom made sure I had everything I ever wanted or needed, bringing me immense joy and no worries. Though my father was present in my life, it was as if he was absent too. While my mom made sure to show up to every little important event or something that brought importance to me, that small satisfaction of joy, my father would make excuses or not show up, bringing down the joy I felt when I was told he'd show. As I grew older and graduated from elementary school into middle school, I slowly started realizing that joy comes in many shapes in forms, and sometimes it doesn't last forever. On the verge of the middle of my 7th-grade year in middle school, COVID-19 struck, leaving me to up and move from everyone I had known for almost 8 years to an entirely differert setting.
My 8th-grade year of middle school was spent online, isolated away from everyone and any social interactions. Throughout this time, I slowly started to lose that spark I had when I was a child. My mind raced with thoughts that never stopped to rest, while my anxiety grew up behind me, like a shadow pulling me farther and farther down into its clutches. For the first time since I had left elementary school, I felt that this was my lowest. Then came high school. As a kid, you watch the high school rom-coms that Disney made and dream that high school would be just like that for you, though it's not what it seems. My 9th grade year of high school is what I would call the lowest point of my life, and that's something coming from a then 14-year-old girl. I had begun growing into a deep depression, that made me not want to get up in the mornings and go to school. When I did go to school, I had panic attacks in the hallways on the way to classes, due to all the people in the way. I was scared of how people would perceive and view me, so I enclosed myself in my bubble, making my depression and anxiety worse, I was left with no ounce of joy.
One day, as I lay in the darkness of my room, I began to think for myself, how I wanted better for myself. I had spent so much time telling myself how I no longer wanted to be here, I never once asked myself why I was meant to be here. Was the sight of the sun whisking its face from beneath the clouds not a reason to have joy for the opportunity of having life? When asked the question of what brings you joy, one would think to sugarcoat it and portray an immensely happy life and discrediting their shortcomings, instead of showing what gave them that satisfaction of raw authenticity and true happiness.
After my epiphany, I decided to get myself help. I went to my mom and dad, and sat them down, explaining to them what I had been going through, and how much it had made me struggle. Once I had explained, they offered to get me help, a therapist, who would help me embrace all the insecurities and challenges I thought only I could face alone.
When I first started going to my therapist, I was hesitant to open up about myself and my feelings, as I thought she would use them against me, which was not the case. She welcomed me to her space with open arms and comfort, something I thought I wouldn't find when looking for someone willing to help me with my problems. Over time I was going to my therapist, and I slowly started changing, only in the smallest of ways, only noticeable to me.
In school, my panic attacks had decreased, and I had started making friends with people who matched my vibes. And to think that a couple of months prior I was struggling to even speak.
After a couple of months, I had stopped going to thelapy, by then my 10th-grade year had approached like the speed of light, and this time around, I was talking more but more reserved, l also began participating in school-based activities. By my 11th grade year of high school, I had fully burst out of my bubble and found myself running for homecoming court, to which I had the honor of being chosen for.
What brings me joy, is the feeling of being able to say I made it, the feeling of overcoming something I thought I would never get over, and being able to open my eyes each morning to make myself a better version of myself than I was yesterday. Transitioning from someone who used to think the world was against her, to someone who lives for every opportunity thrown her way brings me that satisfaction of joy and succesfulness I yearned for in my times of need. Being the oldest of all my siblings, I am the one they look up to the most, being that role model for them lets me know I did something right. Having this chance to come into my senior year of high school knowing the things I have experienced and gone through alone, is enough joy and prosperous well-being for what the future holds for me.