I've been sitting here for a while debating what I should write my first article on, it's a lot more complicated than I thought it would be. Finally, I realized that I need to stop overthinking things and just go with what speaks to me the most. I want to share my story on how my anxiety and depression shaped my perspective on life.

I may only be just starting life, but I've been through a lot in eighteen years that most definitely shaped me into the person I am today. Even though a lot of the struggles I went through were difficult, I'm thankful for them. These difficult times in my life taught me how to create my own happiness, how to be independent, and most importantly how to pick myself up when I fall down.

The older I get, the more people ask me what in my life shaped me the most as a person, I always answered, "My anxiety and depression,". I was never afraid to share my response with anyone. When I was in 7th grade, my mom picked me up from school early because I felt really sick. Later that day, I started having a really distressing pain in my stomach. We thought it was just a stomach ache, but it wasn't. The pain wouldn't go away. I laid in my bed for a week, unable to move, unable to eat, having this feeling in my stomach like someone was stabbing me with a knife and continuously twisting it. The only time the pain would stop is when I would sleep. My mom later took me to the hospital. Many x-rays, medications, and check-ups later, the doctors finally came to the conclusion that I had anxiety.

Everyone played it off like it wasn't a big deal, so I did too. Little did I know how big of an effect it would have on my life later down the road. The older I became, the worse my anxiety got. It affected almost every aspect of my life. Even some of my friends stopped hanging out with me out of fear that they might "catch" my mental issues. My senior year of high school is when it truly affected me the most, it was possibly the worst and the best year of my life.

I fell into a really bad depression. I slacked off on my school work, I stopped hanging out with my friends, and I started skipping my classes. Things the "Old Chloe", would never do, but I didn't care. I would breakdown when I finally got home, feeling an overwhelming sense of sadness. At that point, I would just crawl into my bed and shut the world out. No one in my family ever experienced anxiety and depression like I did, so the only thing they could do is stand there and watch helplessly from the sidelines. My mom told me to get over it, not understanding the emotional torment I was going through in my head. Trying to explain to my family the way I felt, was like trying to create a fire without oxygen - it was impossible. They just became more frustrated and so did I.

Weeks went by and I just kept drowning deeper and deeper in my thoughts.

My mom eventually made me go see a therapist. She only wanted me to go so that they could put me on medication, she thought medication would cure me. My mom is an amazing mom, she just didn't have any idea how to approach my situation, and that's okay. I do not blame my mom for reacting the way she did, she was scared for me and she had no idea what to do. She was there for me every step of the way. Seeing a therapist did help, so I'm grateful my mom made me go. I looked forward to going to therapy every week, I left every time feeling as if a weight was lifted off of my chest. I did start taking medication, but it wasn't for me. I started looking at other alternatives such as exercising more, meditation and reading. I made sure that every day I left time for myself to decompress and spend time with my family. My life needed some major changes, and once I made those changes, life started to get better. I'm not saying that if you share the same struggles that I do, that you should go see a therapist. Everything works differently for everyone, find what works best for you.

I'm not saying therapy cured my anxiety and depression, it helped me learn how to control it.

My focus was usually limited to one day or one obstacle at a time, almost everything appeared as a much bigger issue than what it really was. However, when I finally took a step back and looked from the perspective of a lifetime, the problems I was facing appeared mostly insignificant. I realized that I can't let these obstacles be major roadblocks in my life, I have to stay driven and focused. I can't sit around dwelling on my mistakes wishing things would have turned out differently. I started looking at life as a mountain, one that I should just climb instead of complaining how big it is.

Here in a few weeks I will finally be moving into my dorm room and starting my classes. I don't know what life will be like for me when I'm at college but I'm ready to start climbing this new mountain in my life. My story is only one of many, but I hope by sharing this bit of my life, others can be inspired and start climbing their own mountains. Life is too short and too beautiful to be missing out on it.