My Story
Sharing my Story:
Sharing my Story at Pennridge Central Middle School in partnership with Penn Foundation.
My Story:
2016 Version:
2015 Version:
In early 2011 I began a spiral into a deep and at the time uncontrollable depression that took over my life. It changed who I was, what I did and where I was headed in an instant. I had always been a busy person with many thing to do, a full social calendar, and of average academic abilities. Nothing would have led anyone to believe I was experiencing depression and anxiety disorders based on my every day appearance.
The first time I remember having an anxiety attack was at a marching band a marching band competition in October of 2010. My dad has a genetic lung and liver disease that was diagnosed in the summer of 2008. On this particular weekend he was sick and every time he gets sick or has a cold it is a big deal for him. For whatever reason at this band competition I broke down crying uttering the worlds “I can’t handle this anymore” for the first time. I for the first time felt like I had no control over my emotions or reactions, and felt as though a ton of bricks had just been balanced on my chest. I couldn’t calm down at first and found it really difficult to relax. I finally calmed myself down enough to continue with the night. This was the first of many signs that I was struggling and the first of many anxiety attacks to come. Two months later I shattered my ankle while at school and had major surgery to repair all of the damage. If I already wasn’t struggling this sent me to a whole new level. Being unable to attend school for weeks and being in pain doesn’t bring out the best in somebody. It gave me time to think and reflect on the many emotions I was feeling which started to spiral into dark, hateful thoughts about myself.
When I finally returned to school I was miserable and downright mean to all of the people closest to me. I was angry and felt like everything I previously had known was being taken away from me. I was becoming selfish and bitter.
A few weeks after returning to school the unimaginable happened. A classmate of mine took his own life, which devastated my class and highly impacted some of the people closest to me. As I sat at his memorial service a few days later and heard many of my friends and classmates share their memories of him I realized I wasn’t at a good place in my own life but didn’t know what to do about it.
For months I tried to hide it from people and finally I couldn't hide it anymore. I began to text friends and share with the people closest to me that I wasn't feeling myself, I was feeling sad and out of place. So I went to a therapist who I didn't hit it off with and wouldn't share much with. I felt weird and out of place. I wasn't the type of person to share how I was feeling with someone I didn't know. And I felt as if everyone was judging me because I needed to talk to someone about my struggles. It was getting rapidly worse and I was missing 2 or 3 school days a week because I didn't want to get out of bed or leave my room. All I did was sleep, cry, or share with those close to me how horrible I felt about life and started the cycle all over again. After a few weeks of this I started sending text messages to my closest friends telling them I didn’t find my life worth while which with in a few days turned into suicidal threats. I felt hopeless and didn’t want to continue living in the pain I was feeling. I am lucky that I had friends that were proactive and willing to tell others what was going on in attempts to get me the help I needed. They began telling my parents, their parents, our teachers, and other people around me in hopes to get me the help I truly needed. And that they did. As they began to tell people more began to take place and people began encouraging me to take steps to get the help I needed. Finally after weeks of struggling to find any meaning in my life I decided it was time to do something, which was slightly forced by a situation at school and my parents who were highly proactive in getting me help. I decided to remove myself from school for a while so that I could focus on getting myself healthy and went to an outpatient treatment center for two weeks. The partial hospitalization program I went to allowed me to see therapists and psychiatrists daily that could help me to start piecing my life back together and find a treatment plan that would work for me. Each person’s treatment was different according to their situation, needs, and wants. While there I met a group of people my age that were going through similar things. Many of us struggled with depression, difficulties at home, and low self-esteem. We all faced these issues for different reasons but it was the common thread between all of us that helped us to be a support for each other. While there I began to make friends and talk with other people about what they were doing. I found many good strategies that helped me to cope in better ways then I had been. I began journaling and sharing more about why and what I was feeling. By the time I left I had filled a 200 page journal with thoughts, emotions, songs, lyrics, pictures, and new coping skills. Throughout my time there I was put on medications to help lower my depression and anxiety difficulties, which I continued to take for over a year. I thought I was really doing well when I left the center.
I returned to school and it was horrible. I felt out of place and unable to handle the stress that came with focusing on my wellbeing and the work that was waiting for me when I returned. The work alone was overwhelming and there were many moments when I couldn’t complete assignments and would break down from the anxiety and stress I was feeling. Each assignment bought on a new anxiety attack or tears. I couldn’t handle it. I wasn't ready for the stresses of social interactions and the fact that I didn’t have the space I needed to process everything. I felt I didn't fit into society at this point and found it hard to be involved in any social situation including being in class. School was difficult and I felt as if no one around me understood what I was going through besides a select few who I let in.
I had a few teachers in the beginning that really helped me to find safe space with in my time at school. I was a member of the band and found the band director along with the band members to be my safe space. I would spend my study hall and any moment I could in the band room where I could practice and at times talk to my band director about my difficulties and struggles. It was a way for me to get time and space at school and begin to feel comfortable again in social situations. Even with that support many days I would come home from school and cry. Some days it would be so bad I would cry in the bathroom at my school to try and ease the pain that I was facing. I truly believed again there was no hope in my life of ever getting out of this pit of depression.
At this point I began self-harming more frequently. I had self-harmed very minimally in the beginning but when I returned to school and couldn’t handle the stresses of school on top of the emotions I was experiencing, and self harm became frequent. My family and friends once again noticed very quickly and encouraged me to share with people that could help me more. This time I listened and told people immediately and began finding ways to handle the anxiety in a less destructive way. My friends and family kept a close eye on me and helped me to look for positives and use coping skills. My friends would follow me into the bathroom at school to make sure I was okay and talked through things if I needed to. At home my mom would stay up with me all night, be by my side and work through each moment I wanted to give in. It was a village of people that supported me in my decision to be healthy. A few weeks after returning to school I began going to a new outpatient therapist. She helped me work through the many difficulties that I faced and with in the next few month things began to get better and I began to see some light. By no means was I good but the depression was becoming bearable. I began using coping skills that were helping me to turn negatives into positives. It was a form of retraining my brain in some regards. Over time it began getting easier but it didn't come without days and nights of shaking and anxiety. My mom would stay up until I fell asleep each night to make sure I didn't give in to the feelings I was having. Some nights she would stay the whole night just to make sure I had the support when I needed it. Her and I together were determined I wasn't going to give in and I didn't.
Over the many months that followed there were ups and downs. I was part of a support group of young girls struggling with the same thing, we met every Wednesday night and there was a strength in all of us that helped each of us to go on. Some weeks it was difficult but I always knew on Wednesday night I would be surrounded by people who understood and were willing to help me to keep going. We all had a deep understanding of what we faced and the validation from others dealing with similar things was a great comfort and help through the process. Over these weeks and months I would be fine for awhile and then crumble down again to a place of darkness. Sometimes it seemed as if giving up was my best option but I didn't and that is greatly to do with the coping skills I was taught and the support system I had that continued to remind me I had more the a small reason to keep living.
I was an still am lucky enough to have a strong support system of family, friends, and professionals. Many people aren’t given these supports and for me these people were key in strengthen me to keep fighting. My parents were highly proactive in getting me to see professionals, keeping an eye on me, communicating with me, and communicating with others around me to make sure everything was being done and I was getting the help I needed. I also had friends that were proactive in telling people, supporting me by listening, and by being there for me and encouraging me to keep fighting. I have been given amazing people that helped me to realize who I really was and find the light in my life again. By the time I graduated high school a year after everything first crumbled to the ground I couldn't believe how far I had come. It was a huge change for me. I had a will and a fight in me and I had decided I wasn't giving up because that’s never who I was; my story was far from over. That summer after graduating I went to Prague, Czech Republic with my flute teacher and some other students from her studio. Music had been one of my main escapes through the worst of my depression and I had spent many hours practicing. Playing was my safe space and had always been my safe space to feel and express whatever was going on in my life. Going to Prague was no different; I just found my safe place thousands of miles away to take the next step in overcoming depression.Prague allowed me to experience life in a new way and was going to put the past behind me. I had one of the greatest trips of my life and experienced life for the first time in over a year without the fog of depression. I had a will to love life and experience it with positive intentions. It was a turning point for me.
That August I began a new chapter at Lebanon Valley College. While there I have found myself in more ways then I ever could have imagined when I started. I have had the chance to meet new people, lead, teach children, and experience life in a new ways. I could finally enjoy life. When I left for college I stopped seeing a therapist. I was fine for awhile and even through the ups and downs of my first year of college I made it through with minimal help from professionals. I used my family and my friends to help me through any rough patches and found new friends at LVC that seemed to understand some of the struggles and difficulties that I was facing. I began confiding in these people and telling my story. It was the first time I was telling it. It was the first time I was open about it to people that hadn't experienced it with me. I was on a high of happiness when I left college in May and felt like nothing could take me down but when I returned that August I wasn't myself and I was struggling again but I refused to realize where it was heading until one of my best friends pointed out to me where it was headed and strongly suggested I begin to see someone again. After a few days of deliberation with myself I decided she was right and it was time for me to start seeking help to further heal and find myself in this journey. Over the last 2 years I have done that and I have found peace within myself and peace within some of the things that have happened to me with a new therapist. I can look past them now and see life with a new lens. The journey is never over and I am still on a journey that has many ups and downs. Each day is a struggle but now I find it to be a beautiful challenge that makes me who I am.
So here I am 5 years later sharing my story and finding the courage to tell people its okay to have depression and anxiety, its not weird or odd or weak. It is a part of you that you learn to live with and it is nothing to be ashamed of. Society hides it like its some big horrible secret to struggle in life. I hate to be the person to break the bad news but more people struggle with depression and anxiety then you would ever know. For me sharing my story with people has allowed me the opportunity to make connections with people that I never would have made connections with before. Depression doesn't define you it enhances you and your given talents and abilities. I have embraced it and challenged it. Some days I say to it "Bring it on Depression and Anxiety because I know who is going to win today" and I can tell you now I have won every time I have challenged it. Challenge yourself today whether it be something similar to my story or something else you are trying to overcome.
Don’t be ashamed of your story and who you are. Each piece of you has been molded through each experience you have had up until this point. Your feelings, thoughts and ideas are valid. Be open, share, listen, and be understanding that each person experiences life in a different way. Embrace the difference. Know that you have a choice, the choice to be the author of your own story. Where will it take you?
A little over a year and a half ago
I began sharing my story for the very first time at a flute recital that had
been crafted to focus on the roller coaster my life had taken over the 4 or so
years before that. I had for the first time felt the urge to share publically
major details of the road I had been traveling. A short time later I was
offered an opportunity to share my story through my church and then Penn
Foundation. At first when I was asked I was hesitant but after a day or two of
thinking and reflecting about it I found myself excited, terrified, and
energized all at the same time to share and finally break myself free from all
I had been hiding behind for years. Since sharing my story I have found myself
growing in ways I never imagined. Since I decided to share last year I have
graduated from Lebanon Valley College with my bachelors in Early Childhood and
Special Education, and I have found my dream job as an elementary school
learning support teacher in the Lehigh Valley.
However almost 6 years ago my life was unraveling and I was falling
apart and had no idea what to do about it. I certainly didn’t imagine myself
standing here right now in front of all of you.
In
early 2011 I began to spiral into a deep and uncontrollable depression that took
over my life. I no longer knew who I was, where I was headed, or what I wanted
out of life. I was unable to think clearly and found daily living difficult. I
had always been a busy person with a full calendar of academic, extracurricular,
and social events. I participated in a range of activities from skiing and
softball to art and marching band. Nothing would have lead anyone to believe I
was experiencing depression or anxiety. My outward appearance showed no changes
and when I was in social situations I made sure to look like I was fine. I
thought I could handle all of the building anxiety, emotions, and sense of confusion
myself, but that was the furthest thing from the truth.
In
October of 2010 at a marching band competition I experienced my first anxiety
attack, unable to breathe, uncontrollably crying, and uttering the words “I
can’t do this anymore” for the very first time.
It was the first time I felt like I had no control over my emotions or
reactions, and I felt as though a ton of bricks had just been balanced on my
chest. I could no longer move. I couldn’t calm myself at first and found it
extremely difficult to relax. When I finally calmed myself down I continued
with the night, but not without nagging anxiety and fear following me. Little did
I know at the time that this was the first visible sign of the many signs to
come that I needed get more help than I could give myself.
From
time to time the anxiety attacks continued but I continued to brush them under
the rug and continue with my life the best I could. I didn’t want the people
around me to know, nor did I think anyone would care. I was beginning to fall
even deeper into the hole of depression.
Right before the New Year I shattered my ankle and had to have major
surgery. I was unable to attend school for a few weeks and spent the holidays
in a fog of pain meds and sleep. I began to struggle even more with depression
and anxiety. I was at the point where I had to acknowledge that something was
definitely not okay but I still wanted to dig myself out without anyone knowing
what was really going on. My thoughts were turning hateful, malicious, and
painfully dark. I didn’t like who I saw
in the mirror and found myself constantly feeding on whatever negativity I
could give myself.
When
I finally returned to school I was miserable and nasty, not only to myself but
also to the people closest to me. I couldn’t wrap my head around how all of
this could be happening to me. How could I be having these thoughts? How could
I be in so much physical and emotional pain? Why was my life like this? In the weeks that followed the unimaginable
happened. One of my high school classmates took his own life, which devastated
my class and highly impacted the people closest to me. As I sat at his memorial
service a few days later and heard many of my friends and classmates share
their memories of him I realized I wasn’t at a good place in my own life and I
knew I had to do something but I didn’t know what or how I was going to change
the course my life was on.
I
continued for a few weeks to try my best to hide it from people but those
closest to me were starting to see I wasn’t myself and even though I continued
to reassure them I was fine something was very wrong. I finally broke down and started sharing with
two of the people in my friends group how I was really feeling. I started
texting them nightly about the coldness I felt towards life and myself. I
wasn’t myself and I felt out of place within my own body. I began seeing a
therapist once a week but really didn’t hit it off with them and wouldn’t share
much. I felt weird and out of place sharing my life with someone I had just
met. I felt as if everyone was judging me because I needed to see a therapist.
I continued to get worse and found my thoughts falling into an even darker
place. I was missing 2 or 3 days of school a week because I didn’t want to get
out of bed or face the world. I just physically and emotionally couldn’t bring
myself to leave the safety of my room. All I did was cry, sleep, and share with
my close friends how cold and empty I was feeling. I often shared how numb I
was and that I could no longer feel happiness, sadness, or any of the emotions
in between. I was just cold to the world and myself. It was a never-ending
cycle I was in and I didn’t know how to get out.
I
began texting my friends more frequently to tell them what I was
experiencing. The messages went from I
don’t feel myself to I don’t want to live anymore in a matter of weeks. I was at the point where I didn’t find my life
worthwhile and began having suicidal thoughts. I started threatening my friends
through text message that I was going to take my own life. I felt hopeless and
didn’t want to continue living in the pain I was feeling. I didn’t want to live
this way and the only way I saw an out was by taking my own life.
However
my friends and family had a different plan and began to take action immediately
when they realized just how bad things were. My friends were proactive and
willing to tell whom ever they needed to tell to get me help. They began
telling my parents, their parents, teachers, and other people around us in
hopes to get me the help I needed, and that they did.
As
they began to tell people the journey to becoming a healthy me was slowly
starting, I just didn’t know it or see it that way at the time. People around me began to encourage me to
take steps to get help and take whatever opportunities I could to work through
the pain I was feeling. I was very
resistant at first and often upset when people would suggest that I needed
help. I thought I knew how to solve it and talking to someone was definitely
not how I wanted to handle it. I wanted to keep everything as bottled up inside
without others seeing it as I could.
Finally after
weeks of struggling to find any meaning in my life I gave in and decided to do
something which had been forced upon me by my parents and friends who were
proactive and resourceful in getting me to a place were I would at least give
in and try to seek help. I ended up removing myself from school for a while so
I could focus on getting myself healthy. I began going to a partial
hospitalization program for two weeks. The partial hospitalization program I
went to allowed me to see therapist and psychiatrist daily that could help me
to start piecing my rapidly unraveling life back together and find the best
treatment plan for me. Each person that journey’s through depression, anxiety,
and mental illness has a very unique treatment, each person experiences life
differently and needs a different approach according to their situation and
experiences. While there I met a group
of people my own age that were going through similar experiences. Many of us
struggled with depression, difficulties at home, and low self-esteem. We all
faced these issues for different reasons but it was the common thread between
all of us that helped us to be a support for each other. While there I began
making friends and talking with other people about the coping skills they were
using or had been taught throughout their own personal experiences. I found
many strategies that helped me to cope in better ways than I had been. I began
journaling and sharing more about why and what I was thinking, feeling, and
experiencing. By the time I left the
hospitalization program I had filled a 200 page journal with thoughts,
emotions, songs, lyrics, pictures, and new coping skills. While in the program
I was put on medications to help cope with depression and anxiety. I thought
when I left my last day that nothing could ever tear me down to this low again.
I thought I had weathered the worst of the storm.
Life in the
outside world however was very difficult. Not everyone I encountered understood
what I was going through or knew my story.
I returned to school and began to once again feel out of place. I was
unable to handle the stress that came with trying to maintain my academics and
my emotional well being. All of my energy was focused on trying to keep the
broken pieces together, not on the essay or math problems I was suppose to be
completing. I couldn’t find my focus and found myself once again falling into
the hole, deeper and deeper. The work
alone was overwhelming and most of my first days back at school I couldn’t
complete assignments and would break down from the anxiety and stress I was
feeling. I wasn’t ready to take all of these responsibilities back on to my
plate it felt impossible. I wasn’t ready for social interactions and the fact
that I didn’t have the space to process everything in the hustle and bustle of
a high school. I felt as though I didn’t fit into society and found it hard to
be involved in any social situations including being in class. School was
difficult and I felt as though no one around me understood what I was going through
besides the select few that I let in.
I had a few
teachers in the beginning that really helped me to find safe space with in my
time at school. I was a member of the band and found the band director along
with the band members to be my safe space. I could leave reality and go to
another place when I was playing my flute. I would spend my study hall and any
moment I could in the band room where I could practice and at times talk to my
band director about my difficulties and struggles. It was a way for me to get
time and space at school and begin to feel comfortable again in social
situations. Even with that support many days I would come home from school and
lock myself in my room to cry. Some days I would even find myself in the
bathrooms at school crying in attempts to make the pain disappear. I truly
believed again there was no hope in my life of ever climbing out of the pit. I
felt like I was stuck.
I found
myself struggling to find hope or see any light. I began to self-harm on a
regular basis. I had begun to self harm before going to the partial
hospitalization program but that was only from time to time, now I was doing it
on a daily basis, sometimes even more frequently than that. The stress and
anxiety was too much and I didn’t know how else to cope, all the skills I had
learned just weeks before seemed to disappear into thin air. I wasn’t able to
pull from my toolbox because I forgot I even had a toolbox of coping skills.
All I could think about again was destruction. My family and friends once again
noticed very quickly and encouraged me to share my struggles with the therapist
I was seeing at the time. This time I listened and told people who could help
me immediately and began finding ways to handle the anxiety in a less
destructive way. My friends and family kept a close eye on me and helped me to
look for positives and use coping skills. My friends would follow me into the
bathroom or any secluded place at school to make sure I was okay and would talk
through things if I needed to. At home my mom would stay up with me all night,
be by my side and work through each moment I wanted to give in step by step. It
was a village of people that supported me in my decision to be healthy.
I began going to a new outpatient therapist
after I had left the hospitalization program. She helped me work through the
many difficulties that I faced. She began to teach me new skills, change
thought patterns, and see positives in the small things in life. After a few months I was beginning to see small
glimpses of light. I started learning how to thought stop and use coping skills
to help me turn my negatives into positives. It was a form of beginning to
retrain my thought patterns, thought process, and reactions to my thoughts.
Over time it began to get easier but there were still more of those difficult
days than good days. My friends were still on the other end of the phone
listening, reflectively responding, and riding the roller coaster of emotions
with me. My mom was still staying up with me to make sure I had the support
when I needed it. Her and I together were determined I wasn’t going to give in
and I didn’t. I stopped self-harming on June 24, 2011 and made the decision to
relearn how to love myself and accept myself for who I am. I can truly say
making that decision to stop self harming and sticking to it has been one of
the hardest things I have experienced but it has been worth each moment of
struggle to learn to love myself once again.
Over the
many months that followed there were ups and downs. I was part of a support
group of teenage girls struggling as well. We met every Wednesday night and
there was strength within our small group each time we were together. We knew
we were there to help each other and whenever one of us was having a bad week
we always knew Wednesday night we would be surrounded by people who understood
and were willing to listen, help, and experience the journey with us. We all
had a deep understanding of what we faced and validation from others dealing
with similar things was a great comfort and help through the process. Over
these weeks and months I would be fine for a while and then find myself
crumbling down again to a darker place. Sometimes it seemed as if giving in
again was my best option but I didn’t and that is greatly to do with the coping
skills I was taught and the support system I had that continued to remind me I
had so many reasons to see the sunrise the next morning.
I was and
still am lucky enough to have a support system of family, friends, and
professionals surrounding me. Many people aren’t given these supports and for
me my ‘village’ was key in strengthening me when I felt weak and helping me to
keep fighting. My parents were deeply involved in the entire process and
getting me to see the professionals I need to, keeping and eye on me, and
communication with me and others around me to make sure everything I needed to
be healthy again was there for me. I also had friends that were proactive in
telling people, supporting me by listening, and encouraging me to continue. I
have been given amazing people that helped me to realize who I really was and
find the light in my life again.
By the time
I graduated high school a year after my world started to fall around me I
couldn’t believe how far I had come. It was a huge change for me. I had a will
and a fight in me and I had decided I wasn’t giving up because that’s never who
I really was; my story was far from over. I stood at my high school graduation
and found myself crying and overwhelmed but this time for a very different
reason. I was overwhelmed by the magnitude of pride and joy within myself and
those around me for having working through the many challenges that were faced
and somehow coming out on the other end of it.
The summer
after graduating from high school I went to Prague, Czech Republic with my
flute teacher and some other students from her studio. Music had been one of my
main escapes through the worst of my depression and I had spent many hours
practicing to take away the pain for a few hours of my day. Playing was my safe
space and I found myself best able to express myself when I was playing. Going
to Prague and playing there was no different; I found my safe space thousands
of miles away. While in this safe space I took steps forward that I couldn’t
have even imagined would happen in just 3 short weeks.
For the first
time in over a year I experienced life in a new way and was able to put parts
of my past behind me. I was able to let go of pieces of pain that I never
imagined I would be able to release. I had one of the greatest trips of my life
and felt as though the fog of depression I had been surrounded with finally
lifted. I had a will to love life, interact with others, and have positive
experiences for the first time in what felt like forever. This was a turning
point, the first of many to come. This was the first time I took ownership of
my own mental health. This was the first time I decided I was going to fight
this because the ‘me’ I knew was still within me.
That August
I began a new chapter at Lebanon Valley College. A chapter that would forever
change me, empower me, and allow me to work through some of the hardest
repressed memories I had been hiding deep within me for years. I had the opportunity
to find myself, meet new people, lead, teach, and experience life in ways that
in all 19 years of my life I had not experienced. I started my freshmen year
extremely apprehensive. I was leaving the town I had lived in my entire life,
leaving the support system that had given so much of themselves to me, and I
was petrified of being on my own. After
the first few weeks of college I was no longer apprehensive but surrounded with
new people, some of which had experienced similar things to me. I had picked
LVC for the reason that even in my worst moments when I was going on college
visits I somehow felt comfort when I stepped onto campus that I wasn’t even
feeling in my own home at the time. I knew I had made the right choice and I
had chosen a place that was going to not only educate me academically but allow
me to grow in so many other ways as well.
When I left
for college I stopped seeing a therapist. I thought I finally had made it and
no longer needed the support of a professional. For the first 6-8 months of
college everything was fantastic and I thought I had left the depressions
behind. The new people I had become friends with were the first people I was
sharing anything with about the depth of my experiences with depression and
anxiety. I in the beginning was very hesitant to share at all and picked a very
select group of people to share with. I didn’t want to burden my new friends
with the massive baggage that I felt was following me but those I did tell were
understanding and supportive when I even had the slightest bout of anxiety and
I thought with their help, my parents, and my high school friends I was going
to be fine.
But
I returned for my sophomore year a very different person than I had left LVC
the May before. I once again was feeling like there was a fog descending on me
and I was crawling back into the deep hole the depression previously had dug. I
was closed off to social events, only going to class and returning to my room.
I was easily offended by what others said around me and didn’t have the
motivation to do daily tasks. Once again a friend noticed, this time one of my
friends from college. She talked to me and told me she thought it may be best
if I once again began to see a therapist. I at first pushed back, once again
thinking I could handle this on my own, but when our friendship was on the line
I decided she was indeed right and I needed more help than I could provide
myself.
I
once again started seeing a therapist. This times a private practice therapist
which was a very different setting than I had previously been in. Over the last
three years I have further found myself and began the healing process that
comes with traumatic and emotional events in life. I have experienced many
awakenings, new perspectives and have worked through reliving painful
experiences from my past. I on many
occasions experienced nightmares, anxiety and panic attacks, felt unsafe in my
own body, and didn’t trust even those closest to me. As I worked through each
painful event in my life, talked things out and began to turn my very negative
mind into a more positive thinking mind I found life to be an emotional
rollercoaster. Those around me in many cases were witnessing and talking the
emotional rollercoaster with me. It was hard. Self work and working through
emotionally painful moments and experiences in life are not easy but these
experiences have taught me more than I can ever put down onto paper.
Through
all of my self-work I have learned who I really am, what I have covered up, and
how to be the creative, self-loving me I once was. I have learned many coping
skills, many strategies, and have learned to surround myself with positive
people. I have learned to let things go, go with the flow, and allow each
moment to be a new opportunity for growth and adventure.
When
I graduated from College 6 months ago I was a new person. I walked onto campus
on freshmen move in day scared of my own shadow and walked off of campus on
graduation day as a confident, enthusiastic teacher, ready to take on the world
a share a piece of who I am with those I around me. This summer I was given the
opportunity to do the one thing that has stuck with me through my entire
journey since first grade no matter where I was at emotionally, teach.
Teaching
allows me to be myself with no regrets. I can love those around me fully and
share myself in a way I didn’t know was possible. I have learned to let things
go, go with the flow and accept myself for who I am. Co-workers have introduced
me to practicing yoga and which has allowed me to not only focusing on my
mental health like I have for so many years but connecting my body, mind, and
soul in ways that previously I found extremely difficult.
Each
day I continue to work towards a healthier, happier me. I have no idea what
that looks like yet but I do know that I will continue to grow and have new
perspective if I am open to it. Depression and anxiety has many ups and downs
and even with everything I have worked towards and for each day can still be a
struggle but now I see those struggles as a beautiful challenge that makes me
who I am. Almost 6 years later I find
myself sharing my story, which I never would have imagined. I am finding the
courage to tell people that depression, anxiety, and mental illness is not
weird, odd or weak but it is a part of life for so many. It is a part of me
that I have learned to live with and no longer feel ashamed of. Society hides mental illness as if only a few
people in our world face the challenges that comes with that, but that is the
furthest thing from the truth. More people struggle than we will ever know. Our
world is full of people who hide their struggles just like I did for so long.
For
me sharing my story with people has allowed me the opportunity to make
connections with people I never would have come in contact with before.
Depression doesn’t define me, it enhances me and my given talents and
abilities. I have embraced and challenged it. I challenge it even in the days
that I feel like I have no strength, and every day I have challenged it, I have
won.
I
ask you to challenge yourself today whether it be something similar to my story
or something else that you are overcoming. Don’t be ashamed of your story and
who you are. Each piece of you has been molded through each experience you have
had up until this point. Your feelings, thoughts, and ideas are valid. Be open,
share, listen, and understand that each person experiences life in a different
way. Embrace the difference. Know that you have a choice, the choice to be the
author of your own story. What will you write?
2015 Version:
In early 2011 I began a spiral into a deep and at the time uncontrollable depression that took over my life. It changed who I was, what I did and where I was headed in an instant. I had always been a busy person with many thing to do, a full social calendar, and of average academic abilities. Nothing would have led anyone to believe I was experiencing depression and anxiety disorders based on my every day appearance.
The first time I remember having an anxiety attack was at a marching band a marching band competition in October of 2010. My dad has a genetic lung and liver disease that was diagnosed in the summer of 2008. On this particular weekend he was sick and every time he gets sick or has a cold it is a big deal for him. For whatever reason at this band competition I broke down crying uttering the worlds “I can’t handle this anymore” for the first time. I for the first time felt like I had no control over my emotions or reactions, and felt as though a ton of bricks had just been balanced on my chest. I couldn’t calm down at first and found it really difficult to relax. I finally calmed myself down enough to continue with the night. This was the first of many signs that I was struggling and the first of many anxiety attacks to come. Two months later I shattered my ankle while at school and had major surgery to repair all of the damage. If I already wasn’t struggling this sent me to a whole new level. Being unable to attend school for weeks and being in pain doesn’t bring out the best in somebody. It gave me time to think and reflect on the many emotions I was feeling which started to spiral into dark, hateful thoughts about myself.
When I finally returned to school I was miserable and downright mean to all of the people closest to me. I was angry and felt like everything I previously had known was being taken away from me. I was becoming selfish and bitter.
A few weeks after returning to school the unimaginable happened. A classmate of mine took his own life, which devastated my class and highly impacted some of the people closest to me. As I sat at his memorial service a few days later and heard many of my friends and classmates share their memories of him I realized I wasn’t at a good place in my own life but didn’t know what to do about it.
For months I tried to hide it from people and finally I couldn't hide it anymore. I began to text friends and share with the people closest to me that I wasn't feeling myself, I was feeling sad and out of place. So I went to a therapist who I didn't hit it off with and wouldn't share much with. I felt weird and out of place. I wasn't the type of person to share how I was feeling with someone I didn't know. And I felt as if everyone was judging me because I needed to talk to someone about my struggles. It was getting rapidly worse and I was missing 2 or 3 school days a week because I didn't want to get out of bed or leave my room. All I did was sleep, cry, or share with those close to me how horrible I felt about life and started the cycle all over again. After a few weeks of this I started sending text messages to my closest friends telling them I didn’t find my life worth while which with in a few days turned into suicidal threats. I felt hopeless and didn’t want to continue living in the pain I was feeling. I am lucky that I had friends that were proactive and willing to tell others what was going on in attempts to get me the help I needed. They began telling my parents, their parents, our teachers, and other people around me in hopes to get me the help I truly needed. And that they did. As they began to tell people more began to take place and people began encouraging me to take steps to get the help I needed. Finally after weeks of struggling to find any meaning in my life I decided it was time to do something, which was slightly forced by a situation at school and my parents who were highly proactive in getting me help. I decided to remove myself from school for a while so that I could focus on getting myself healthy and went to an outpatient treatment center for two weeks. The partial hospitalization program I went to allowed me to see therapists and psychiatrists daily that could help me to start piecing my life back together and find a treatment plan that would work for me. Each person’s treatment was different according to their situation, needs, and wants. While there I met a group of people my age that were going through similar things. Many of us struggled with depression, difficulties at home, and low self-esteem. We all faced these issues for different reasons but it was the common thread between all of us that helped us to be a support for each other. While there I began to make friends and talk with other people about what they were doing. I found many good strategies that helped me to cope in better ways then I had been. I began journaling and sharing more about why and what I was feeling. By the time I left I had filled a 200 page journal with thoughts, emotions, songs, lyrics, pictures, and new coping skills. Throughout my time there I was put on medications to help lower my depression and anxiety difficulties, which I continued to take for over a year. I thought I was really doing well when I left the center.
I returned to school and it was horrible. I felt out of place and unable to handle the stress that came with focusing on my wellbeing and the work that was waiting for me when I returned. The work alone was overwhelming and there were many moments when I couldn’t complete assignments and would break down from the anxiety and stress I was feeling. Each assignment bought on a new anxiety attack or tears. I couldn’t handle it. I wasn't ready for the stresses of social interactions and the fact that I didn’t have the space I needed to process everything. I felt I didn't fit into society at this point and found it hard to be involved in any social situation including being in class. School was difficult and I felt as if no one around me understood what I was going through besides a select few who I let in.
I had a few teachers in the beginning that really helped me to find safe space with in my time at school. I was a member of the band and found the band director along with the band members to be my safe space. I would spend my study hall and any moment I could in the band room where I could practice and at times talk to my band director about my difficulties and struggles. It was a way for me to get time and space at school and begin to feel comfortable again in social situations. Even with that support many days I would come home from school and cry. Some days it would be so bad I would cry in the bathroom at my school to try and ease the pain that I was facing. I truly believed again there was no hope in my life of ever getting out of this pit of depression.
At this point I began self-harming more frequently. I had self-harmed very minimally in the beginning but when I returned to school and couldn’t handle the stresses of school on top of the emotions I was experiencing, and self harm became frequent. My family and friends once again noticed very quickly and encouraged me to share with people that could help me more. This time I listened and told people immediately and began finding ways to handle the anxiety in a less destructive way. My friends and family kept a close eye on me and helped me to look for positives and use coping skills. My friends would follow me into the bathroom at school to make sure I was okay and talked through things if I needed to. At home my mom would stay up with me all night, be by my side and work through each moment I wanted to give in. It was a village of people that supported me in my decision to be healthy. A few weeks after returning to school I began going to a new outpatient therapist. She helped me work through the many difficulties that I faced and with in the next few month things began to get better and I began to see some light. By no means was I good but the depression was becoming bearable. I began using coping skills that were helping me to turn negatives into positives. It was a form of retraining my brain in some regards. Over time it began getting easier but it didn't come without days and nights of shaking and anxiety. My mom would stay up until I fell asleep each night to make sure I didn't give in to the feelings I was having. Some nights she would stay the whole night just to make sure I had the support when I needed it. Her and I together were determined I wasn't going to give in and I didn't.
Over the many months that followed there were ups and downs. I was part of a support group of young girls struggling with the same thing, we met every Wednesday night and there was a strength in all of us that helped each of us to go on. Some weeks it was difficult but I always knew on Wednesday night I would be surrounded by people who understood and were willing to help me to keep going. We all had a deep understanding of what we faced and the validation from others dealing with similar things was a great comfort and help through the process. Over these weeks and months I would be fine for awhile and then crumble down again to a place of darkness. Sometimes it seemed as if giving up was my best option but I didn't and that is greatly to do with the coping skills I was taught and the support system I had that continued to remind me I had more the a small reason to keep living.
I was an still am lucky enough to have a strong support system of family, friends, and professionals. Many people aren’t given these supports and for me these people were key in strengthen me to keep fighting. My parents were highly proactive in getting me to see professionals, keeping an eye on me, communicating with me, and communicating with others around me to make sure everything was being done and I was getting the help I needed. I also had friends that were proactive in telling people, supporting me by listening, and by being there for me and encouraging me to keep fighting. I have been given amazing people that helped me to realize who I really was and find the light in my life again. By the time I graduated high school a year after everything first crumbled to the ground I couldn't believe how far I had come. It was a huge change for me. I had a will and a fight in me and I had decided I wasn't giving up because that’s never who I was; my story was far from over. That summer after graduating I went to Prague, Czech Republic with my flute teacher and some other students from her studio. Music had been one of my main escapes through the worst of my depression and I had spent many hours practicing. Playing was my safe space and had always been my safe space to feel and express whatever was going on in my life. Going to Prague was no different; I just found my safe place thousands of miles away to take the next step in overcoming depression.Prague allowed me to experience life in a new way and was going to put the past behind me. I had one of the greatest trips of my life and experienced life for the first time in over a year without the fog of depression. I had a will to love life and experience it with positive intentions. It was a turning point for me.
That August I began a new chapter at Lebanon Valley College. While there I have found myself in more ways then I ever could have imagined when I started. I have had the chance to meet new people, lead, teach children, and experience life in a new ways. I could finally enjoy life. When I left for college I stopped seeing a therapist. I was fine for awhile and even through the ups and downs of my first year of college I made it through with minimal help from professionals. I used my family and my friends to help me through any rough patches and found new friends at LVC that seemed to understand some of the struggles and difficulties that I was facing. I began confiding in these people and telling my story. It was the first time I was telling it. It was the first time I was open about it to people that hadn't experienced it with me. I was on a high of happiness when I left college in May and felt like nothing could take me down but when I returned that August I wasn't myself and I was struggling again but I refused to realize where it was heading until one of my best friends pointed out to me where it was headed and strongly suggested I begin to see someone again. After a few days of deliberation with myself I decided she was right and it was time for me to start seeking help to further heal and find myself in this journey. Over the last 2 years I have done that and I have found peace within myself and peace within some of the things that have happened to me with a new therapist. I can look past them now and see life with a new lens. The journey is never over and I am still on a journey that has many ups and downs. Each day is a struggle but now I find it to be a beautiful challenge that makes me who I am.
So here I am 5 years later sharing my story and finding the courage to tell people its okay to have depression and anxiety, its not weird or odd or weak. It is a part of you that you learn to live with and it is nothing to be ashamed of. Society hides it like its some big horrible secret to struggle in life. I hate to be the person to break the bad news but more people struggle with depression and anxiety then you would ever know. For me sharing my story with people has allowed me the opportunity to make connections with people that I never would have made connections with before. Depression doesn't define you it enhances you and your given talents and abilities. I have embraced it and challenged it. Some days I say to it "Bring it on Depression and Anxiety because I know who is going to win today" and I can tell you now I have won every time I have challenged it. Challenge yourself today whether it be something similar to my story or something else you are trying to overcome.
Don’t be ashamed of your story and who you are. Each piece of you has been molded through each experience you have had up until this point. Your feelings, thoughts and ideas are valid. Be open, share, listen, and be understanding that each person experiences life in a different way. Embrace the difference. Know that you have a choice, the choice to be the author of your own story. Where will it take you?
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