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An Open Letter To My Anxiety And Depression

It's been a nice run, but it's time that you guys leave.

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An Open Letter To My Anxiety And Depression
okchicas.com

Dear anxiety and depression,

I didn't know you guys existed until I was in the 7th grade; all I could remember was one day not wanting to wake up and go on about life. My parents masked you guys as "puberty," and the more they said it, the more I started to believe that you guys were something that I could possibly get rid of. I tried to continue to go about my life as if you both never existed, but as the years went on everyone around me started to notice a change in me — or what they thought to have been me. Once puberty was basically over you all were now masked as "unresolved complications of my parents divorce," or at least that's what the therapist called it at the time. Everyone was convinced that there was nothing wrong with me, but I felt trapped inside my own body banging against the walls begging to be helped.

If you asked my friends to describe me in one word, it would be lively. I am the person that everyone wants to be around, I am the one that makes everyone laugh and smile, but I am also the one that was dying slowing inside. I put on an act for the world, I played the part of a happy teenager who had no care in the world. I played the best friend that had all the answers, the supportive girlfriend that showed up to all events, the loving daughter as well as the devoted sister. Everyone was appreciative of my performance in their lives and they carried on not noticing that I was emotionally broken. It wasn't until my show got cut short because in the midst of my performance my chest started to cave in, my arms felt like noodles, my head started to spin, and my breathing got shorter as I passed out in the middle of the hallway. The jig is up, now everyone knows that I am not perfect and instead of being the go to person I'm now the one that needs help.

An anxiety attack was what the doctor called it after the nurse called my mom and she rushed me to the hospital. He started describing how I had been feeling perfectly: irrational outburst, fear, worry as well as feelings of being worthless and consistently sad. I had to lie to the doctor and tell him that I never felt those things because I had a show to put on. No one could know that the lead actress was a fake; I had to stick to my career I just had too.

After my first anxiety attack, I started to feel you guys fade away. The sun started to come out as I threw myself in after school activities and found a purpose and meaning in my life. I thought I got rid of you both once and for all, but then freshman year of college came and I started to feel my comeback performance happen. "Welcome back" is all I could hear the announcer say as the same symptoms started to come back. I needed help and help that was not forced by my parents or a judge so that's what I did I went and got help. The rest of college went by smoothly as I took regular trips to visit my counselor every Thursday morning at 11 a.m. I never felt that I was fully cured, but I felt the overall pain in my gut subside and I felt myself finding joy in waking up every morning.

Graduation came and went and now here we are again you are still here hovering over me like a dark cloud on a bright summer day. Some days are great, I feel as if I can succeed in anything that I want to put my mind too and others I don't want to move. I feel physical pain in going out and being a normal human being that I just sit and wallow over small things.

This isn't a bashing letter to you guys because I have had to deal with it for ten years now. This is a letter to let you guys know that I can't settle for living like this anymore. There is more to life then the four walls of my bedroom, and I fully intend to go out and find it. I want to thank you guys for the lessons that you have indeed taught me, but it's time to move forward and take the necessary steps to becoming a better and happier me.

Sincerely,

The girl with anxiety and depression

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