You all look at me and each see something different. You see a daughter. You see a sister. You see a niece. You see a friend. You see a sorority girl, as someone who is involved on campus. You see someone you can always rely on. Someone who is always there for everyone in need. Someone who will constantly go out of their way to make sure everyone else is happy first. Someone who seems to have their life together. Someone who is always positive and someone who is always smiling.
That is what you see, and while that is not a lie, that is not all. You do not see me breaking my back trying to make sure I pass all my classes. You do not see all the hard work I put in behind the scenes to make sure my life runs smoothly. You do not see the countless nights I lay awake because I am thinking of all the other things that need to be done that week.
And you especially do not see me when I am laying on my bedroom floor, having a panic attack for no reason. You do not see me hyperventilating because I am crying so hard that I cannot find a normal breath. You do not see me shut down and you do not see me upset. You never see me at my worst because I don’t let you.
It’s great sometimes to wear rose-colored glasses and only see the best parts of people. But sometimes we should take those glasses off and really look at the person. Ask even the happiest of people how they are doing. Ask people about their day. Majority of the time, they won’t admit that they are hurt, upset, or panicking. They don’t want you to know they struggle. They don’t want you to know they hurt. They don’t want you to know they really don’t have their life together. They want you to think the best of them. They want you to see them as the person who’s always happy, who always has it together. They want you to keep the rose-colored glasses on.
I know this, because I am one of those people. I struggle with anxiety and panic attacks far more often than I ever tell people. In fact, most people probably assume that those things don’t happen to me, but they do. I don’t know what triggers them, I don’t know how to really control them, and everything about them sucks. I refused to let anyone see me that way. I refused to let people see me at my weakest, at my lowest, when life just could never go my way. While I still may not have my life together, I am learning that it's okay. I’m learning how to handle anxiety better, and learning how to deal with the panic. I learned that the more you talk about it, especially in public, the less scary it seems. If you let others in and let them know what’s going on, you can have an army of people behind you ready to help you when you just cannot be your usual fabulous self. I learned that these things don’t make me broken, they are just something I must deal with. It honestly sucks, but if everyone took a moment to realize that even the happiest of people might have something wrong and asked that simple question of how they are feeling, we could all support each other and build each other up.
