It's been about a year since I came to terms with my anxiety problems. For quite awhile I secluded myself away from the world, petrified of judgement. But after sitting in my car, crying my eyes out to my boyfriend for the third time in a week, I decided that something had to change. I couldn't live being afraid of the world anymore. I called the doctor and set up an appointment.

After just a few days of counseling and antidepressants, I started to feel normal again. I was crying less and less and soon, I wasn't crying at all. I could finally rationalize the things going on around me. It felt so good to be myself again.

Prior to all this, I had decided to go to Ireland. It feels to good to know that even at my hardest moments, I still push myself. On June 3rd, I boarded a plane to start a two month-adventure.

Ireland is a beautiful country, and it's nothing like I expected. Despite all of the similarities, America and Ireland are two very different places. The biggest difference that I've encountered is the fact that they are much more present. Instead of burying their faces in their phones, they actively engage with the people they are with. They take longer lunch breaks and stop working at 6 p.m. when the workday ends. They take time to enjoy themselves, to enjoy each other. And I think that's why Ireland has had a hand in reducing my anxiety problems.

Molly Malone is supposed to give good luck to all those who rub her boobs. I think this proves that the Irish are relaxed and fun people.

America thrives on stress. Everything has a date or a number attached to it--times to be somewhere, when things are due, how much we weigh. I'm not saying that Ireland doesn't think about these things, but they aren't controlled by them. In Ireland, you aren't given specific directions as to how to complete tasks. You only have guidelines, allowing creativity and energy to flow into each project. It's refreshing to know that America's way isn't the only way to do things.

It took me a couple weeks once I got to Ireland to start taking my medication. First, the time difference really threw me off. I usually take my pill at night, but I kept going out with my friends at that time, resulting in me forgetting to take it all together. The second reason it took me a while to start taking my medication again was that I barely noticed a difference in how I felt. I was being social and making friends. It was great! I want to stop taking the medication; I don't want to have to take a pill to maintain my sanity anymore.

I've met so many wonderful people during my Ireland trip.

I brought this up to a few of my new friends one night, and they both said I needed to continue taking them. I knew they were right, but I didn't want to listen to them. I went a few more days taking them inconsistently until I felt the sting again.

I'm not sure if other people with anxiety feel this way, but, for me, anxiety feels like a sting. It stabs my heart and makes me overthink things. It keeps me up at night. It tells me others dislike who I am.

Luckily, this feeling didn't last. As soon as I felt the sting again, I made a pact with myself to take my meds consistently. I don't want to feel that way again--especially not while in Ireland--and, since then, I haven't had another issue.

I'm not sure if I'll ever stop taking my medication. My family history proves that my anxiety/depression issues are definitely caused by an imbalance of serotonin. But perhaps, once I'm ready, I'll stop taking them. And when I do, I'll remember my time in Ireland and what the Irish taught me.