If you own a dog, you know those days when you show them their leash and then take them out for a nice, long walk? You can’t let them run away, so you make sure to keep the leash very tight on them, right? If you don’t own a dog, it’s OK, you can still stick around. In your case, think of a human being leashed for six years and then finally having the power and strength to snap out of it. I know it sounds horrible, but I have a story to tell you, regardless whether you own a dog or not.

I’m going to try my best to condense six years into a few paragraphs, but here we go.

It all started in 2010 when I had my first anxiety attack. I didn’t know what it was then, so I thought I was going insane. I also realized I kept double-checking everything. Sometimes I would check something up to 12 times. I noticed I was doing something peculiar, but I didn’t know what it was. I never sought help, but I knew I had to. I remember my first three years being the worst. I couldn’t leave my house without having a strict routine that I couldn’t break. I would wake up, eat breakfast, use the toilet, shower, change, use the toilet, brush my teeth, fix my hair, walk around the house and make sure everything was in place, make sure my pillows were perfectly aligned, and after a few more checkups, I would hop in the car and head to school.

I would do this every day, and if something went wrong I would have anxiety over it. I didn’t understand what was happening to me. Years later somebody told me I probably had OCD, and after doing extensive research, I self-diagnosed. There was no way I had anything else. I had every possible symptom people with OCD had. I categorized myself as having severe OCD/anxiety because to me it was horrible. Trying to accomplish tasks that would usually take one minute normally took me three times as long. I know I shouldn’t have diagnosed myself, but I felt like that was the best I could do at the time.

There were nights when I would toss and turn, and I would cry. I couldn’t sleep, so I would walk over to my parents’ room and ask them to comfort me. I still remember the times when I would rip my hair out because of how angry I was. I couldn’t take it anymore. If alcohol was the topic to a conversation, or if anybody brought up an abstract idea, I would have an anxiety attack. In other words, almost everything gave me an anxiety attack.

For a while I had to get my heart monitored because I would have frequent heart palpitations. I can still remember going to school with a monitor on my heart (twice) and hearing it go off every time it took a test-run of my heart. What strikes me is that doctors couldn’t figure out why I was getting them. They said I was growing up, but personally, I am positive it was my anxiety. Finally a few months later one doctor asked me if I was stressed. I had to tell her I was stressed about school. At the moment I was taking AP classes in high school and was starting to get involved in sports (track and field/cross country) and many clubs. But that wasn’t the problem. It actually alleviated my stress.

I used to have feelings for this girl back home. I remember I wanted to date her so badly, but I had to get rid of that “weird” habit of mine, the one that made me obsess over my routine and would riddle me with anxiety. I had to get rid of the following: nail-biting, nervous breakdowns, panic and anxiety attacks, worriedness, and the OCD. It was an endless list, but after two and a half years of pain and suffering, I decided to tell somebody. I asked her for advice.

I remember her sending me a message through Twitter. I cannot recall the exact words, but after reading that message, I felt free from being leashed like a dog. I have thanked her a couple of times, but she doesn’t remember as well what she did. Of course, she didn’t physically do something, but her words influenced me so much in a good way.

A few months or so passed by, and I applied what she had told me to do. A year later and a half later, I didn’t talk to her as much anymore and the attacks returned. It was my first year at UC Davis and I was getting them again, but I was able to control them. I cried once or twice, but I was able to cope with it immediately. It was a big step for me.

Taking chemistry, calculus, and other GE’s my first year made it worse at times. Stress was accumulating, but the anxiety would diminish.

After a few more months, I was getting them again. This was my second year at UC Davis, but this time, I had to make a change. One day I decided to tell my best friends back home. I called them up because a girl I had been dating at that time decided to end the relationship. Long distance wasn’t going to work, so I had to face my reality. A week later that’s when I picked up my phone and called my best friends. I was going through what people call a "breakup," and of course, I was sad, lonely, and I just wanted to be with her. My anxiety levels went up so much.

So this is where things turn around. This time, another girl had influenced me. I actually told her how I was feeling while we were dating, and we were able to relate very much. I felt less lonely. While I was with her, she told me to visit a psychologist.

I remember walking out of my appointment and tearing up. I went on Twitter, and tweeted, “Today I just accomplished something I should’ve done six years ago.” I was shaking. I took a deep breath. I felt so free. I felt accomplished. I called my best friends and explained everything to them. I didn’t know what to say because I was about to tell them why I would act weird around them sometimes and reject invitations to all these places. So I called. One of them got mad at me for not saying anything before, but then he showed me how much he cared afterwards by checking up on me frequently. Without hesitation, I was then able to tell my story to many people afterwards.

I always felt trapped. My thoughts always held me back from moving onward in life, mentally of course. I can still remember my everyday feeling of distress, agony, and internal suffocation. My parents always asked me if I was OK. I would be quiet most of the time. And I would take a lot of things personally. They kept asking me because I have always been outgoing and goofy with them, so when they saw me quiet they would keep asking me until I made something up. Fortunately, I was able to hide it very well. I do appreciate their care very much. I love them so much. I can’t thank them enough for their support. But that’s it. Those days were over now. I already had been feeling better because I was slowly getting over it. Slowly, but surely.

This, however, changed everything.

These are my six years.

1. Don’t hide what’s breaking you. I had to go through a girl I liked, my best friends, and my last girlfriend to get over this.
2. Know that you’re not alone.
3. Life is too short to be worrying about things you can’t control.
4. We’re all humans. Show people you see struggling love and patience.

And finally, trust people.

Best of luck to all my friends out there.

Your dearest friend,

Sal Lira