People that I'm close to know that one of the things I struggle with most is anxiety. On far too many occasions, I've had to beg a friend to do a seemingly minute task because I was too scared to do it, too scared of some sort of rejection. I panic when I'm running late for anything. I panic riding the train alone. I panic just trying to ask a store employee a question. For those who don't understand what it's like to live with anxiety, my actions seem ridiculous and juvenile. Maybe I just needed to grow up and live in the real world.

I didn't choose this.

I never asked for mental disorders because they made me look "cute" or "edgy" as mainstream media has so casually implied. I was diagnosed with general anxiety and obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) early on in middle school and then suffered from depression in high school.

Growing up with mental illness, I feel, robbed me of special parts of my teenage years. I know I can't blame it all on the illness as I play a part in managing my symptoms, but very rarely do people acknowledge how difficult it really is to fight your own mind.

I allowed my anxiety and OCD to prevent me from reaching out to people and try new things. I stayed within my comfort zone, never daring to explore life on a bigger scale. I sat for hours, redoing homework after homework because I couldn't hand in an assignment that had the corner of a page crinkled.

When the depression hit, I didn't even realize it at first. It was a process: first I stopped eating regularly, and then I stopped sleeping or maybe slept too much. I was irritable almost constantly, and most of my peers just figured I was going through a phase.

My symptoms for anxiety were no better. When I had panic attacks, they weren't always me laying on the floor crying, as people expect. Sometimes it was standing so still I could barely breathe, not hearing anything said to me. I can't even move my eyes. When I'm seriously upset, I have the compulsive need to rub my arms to the point where the skin turns red. I may try to organize my room or clean the entire house, just because something inside compels me to.

The hardest part about not having conventional symptoms for mental illness is that they're harder for outsiders to identify. Some people are disturbed by them, even. People can't always understand that when I say "I can't get up, I can't move," I mean it. Depression, anxiety — they're ugly words, and unfortunately, they're so often misunderstood or not talked about at all.

Going to college meant I had to take care of myself and confront my disorders head-on more often than ever. For people like me, this is one of the most challenging parts of growing up. When these symptoms begin to loom and I start struggling in school, it’s hard not to just give into every compulsion or every fear.

I wish I could say I always win, but I don’t. Sometimes I go through ruts where I’m no longer myself, and my self-care becomes nonexistent. People will judge me or they won't, but I found that the best people in life are the ones who stick with you through it all.