Until I was diagnosed with PTSD, I had thought only war veterans could suffer from it. In my mind, my suffering was never enough to warrant what I thought to be such a lofty diagnosis. As it turns out, trauma doesn't come in only one form.

According to the National Institute of Mental Health, "Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) is an anxiety disorder that can develop after exposure to a terrifying event or ordeal in which there was the potential for or actual occurrence of grave physical harm." Although the majority of people who do suffer from PTSD are military veterans or victims of sexual assault, there is a wide variety of circumstances in which PTSD may result, and mine just happened to be one of them.

There are very few people who know about the circumstances which resulted in this diagnosis, and for the sake of myself and others, I plan to keep it that way. However, I can tell you what it feels like.

I remember spending a day at the mall with some friends, some of whom I had only met once, and leaving the store in the middle of a conversation because I started to feel overwhelmed. One minute I was helping my friends find pants, the next, I was grabbing a pretzel on the other side of the mall trying to choke back tears. My heart was pounding and I felt like someone had grabbed hold of my throat and intended to suck the life out of me. My thoughts were vicious, force-feeding bits and pieces of memories to me, and I felt helpless to it all. I stood there, helpless, in the middle of a mall, and no one even knew.

Everyone's experience with mental health is different because no one's symptoms are the exact same. My PTSD came in the form of intense anxiety attacks with every flashback, and waking up constantly from nightmares. Although I was an extroverted child, I now found myself going from dozens of friends to a small cluster, yet even then I didn't share anything about what was going on. Instead, I struggled with an immense level of guilt and depression that would follow me for years, angry at myself for not understanding what had gone on, but still believing I had caused it nonetheless. I constantly checked behind me everywhere I went, made plans in case of contact, and avoided entire parts of town. Looking back, I wish I had let someone in, someone who didn't know the situation but could tell me it wasn't my fault and that it was okay to cry. I can't tell you how different my life would be now if I had just done that.

There are a lot of very different experiences with mental health and no one person is going to experience trauma in the exact same way. However, I can tell you that whether you are going through it right now or whether you know someone who is, just tell them it's okay to hurt. Be patient with them as they try to let you in and understand that their pain may never go away, but if you can learn their triggers and learn to love them in a way that makes them feel safe, that is more than enough. I can't get a time machine and go back to change my reaction, or even go back to change the situation. However, I can move forward. I can tell others that this is not a weakness and you don't have to carry it as such. Go to therapy and get some help. It isn't fun, but healing is necessary to keep living.

I still struggle occasionally. Every so often words or a place will bring me back and the flashbacks will come back just as heavy as before. However, it is different now. I know phrases that calm me down or safe places I can go. I am starting to let people in again, to trust, and that's how I am learning to be okay. This summer was the first time I have lived somewhere and not checked behind me as I walked around. The first time in six years. It is these little miracles in life, the sweet spots that come from the sorrow that make me feel like I'm going to be okay.

If you or someone you know is struggling with PTSD, go here for more information regarding treatment options. You may seek out a therapist near you who can begin counseling sessions and consider medication or natural methods of treatment. You are not alone.