Starting college was a huge new chapter in my life. I had no idea how my body and mind would react to this new lifestyle and new atmosphere. As soon as my mom dropped me off at my dorm and I started to unpack, I knew I was in for a roller coaster of emotions.
Prior to starting college, I had some anxiety. Never over specific things, mostly just due to stress and from being overwhelmed with work or by large crowds. I thought going to college would get me out of my introverted and anxiety stricken rut and it did, for a little while.
But then, I started to surround myself with people that I should not have been hanging out with and end up in places I should never have gone to. I put an enormous course load of work and a part-time job in the mix and my mind began to run into overdrive.
My anxiety was at an all-time high my first year of college. I thought I could take an anxiety pill and all would be well. I thought I could continue to live this erratic and wild lifestyle for a little while longer. That is, until, I finally hit what many call "rock-bottom."
On the outside, I seemed OK to my family and friends, but that was only because I was not around them.
I isolated myself and the only ones who saw me during this time were the people who I should have never been hanging out with in the first place. My grades were bad. I was lucky I didn't fail a class.
Waking up in the mornings is when I really felt the anxiety. I would wake up with my heart racing and my chest felt as if someone had piled bricks on top of me. I had to get help. I knew this was not how I wanted to live the rest of my life.
I had to fight back this anxiety.
I finally began to release myself from the late-nights and the people I surrounded myself with that year. In order to fully heal and fight back the anxiety, I had to take away the things that made my anxiety worse.
I sat down and thought about what else caused my anxiety. Yes, it was those places and people but what else is causing my distress? I came to the conclusion that I had some pretty traumatic events happen during my freshman year of college that I had to address.
I went to talk to a counselor.
Finally, I felt better letting out what had happened to me. I pretended these events never happened, I had drowned out these past events with the late nights and erratic lifestyle. I discovered that I was the reason my anxiety had gotten worse. If I was the reason it got worse, I knew that I had to be the reason it got better.
On top of speaking up and choosing not to be silent about my anxiety I also found out more about myself. I didn't know how much I loved baking prior to this change of lifestyle. Baking has been a way for me to focus on one certain task at a time.
In our lives, we get so caught up in so many things we forget to focus on one certain task. Just allowing myself to start and finish one task has benefited me greatly.
My Grandma always told me, "It will get better Victoria. At first, it will be horrible. It will hurt and make you cry. Go ahead and cry. Cry your eyes out. But you have to get up after and make it better. That's all you can do."
Indeed, get up and make it better.