You see I have had anxiety for probably as long as I can remember. Of course, I'm sure I had it before then, but the monster didn't roar its ugly head until a few years ago. If you are reading this and you have anxiety, I'm sure you'll understand.
In the first year (when I noticed it was there), I was determined that it was temporary and it would go away, probably because I wasn't familiar with the signs of anxiety. I went on with my day-to-day routine, wondering what was going on. I noticed myself being irritable and moody. I was miserable almost as soon as I got out of bed, and I took it out on anyone who would tolerate it. After yelling at someone or being really miserable towards the people I knew would deal with my problem, I would feel so bad that I would cry. This was my life for a whole year; it was a roller coaster.
The second year of dealing with this monster, in 2014, and nothing changed. I denied that anything was wrong with me. I refused to get help or see someone to counsel me. I was starting a relationship with my boyfriend in June, which seemed to help quite a bit. However, I was taking my emotions out on him or my mom. Neither of which deserved it. My mom put up with the lashing out and bad attitude simply because she loved me, and it was the same for my boyfriend. God bless them both. But still by the end of the year, I was refusing help. My anxiety had gotten much worse, and I felt like I lost control of everything around me.
Starting 2015, I spent endless nights crying. I'd wake up having panic attacks and I would feel like I couldn't breathe. The anxiety was getting worse. I came to the realization by mid-June that this thing was part of me, and I had to cope with what I was feeling. I have always been independent, so I still didn't want to get help from anyone but myself. Not realizing at this point that I couldn't help myself, I was going to need assistance. I continued my relationship with my boyfriend and I came to college. I relied on the Internet to give me tips on how to cope with the way I was feeling, and it worked for some time. I felt like myself again, and that was probably the best time in my life. I was doing well in college and my relationship was much better, not only with my boyfriend but with my family and friends as well.
November 2015 hit, and I was right back into my January-self. I was crying frequently, having panic attacks and all the problems I thought I had gotten rid of came back. I finally learned that I was going to need some serious help from someone other than myself. I enrolled myself in counseling because I thought that would be enough. By the time January 2016 hit, I realized it was going to take a little more help. I set up an appointment with a new doctor for March (when I'd be home from college on break) and she has now put me on medicine. I don't start it until tomorrow, but I'm hoping that it will help.
I hope telling you my story will help you understand that you are not alone. I hope that my story will show you that it's OK to ask for help; it's nothing to be ashamed of and it's something that many people face.
