We all hate going to school. Let's be honest here, getting up on a Monday morning to go to class is one of the greatest struggles for any student, no matter where they are or what grade they're in.

For me, as a senior in high school, it was no different. I dreaded getting up early, getting ready, and driving to school every Monday. However, there is only one person that has it harder than an exhausted student on a Monday morning.

That is, their first period teacher.

It is pretty much impossible to get students to care, let alone smile, when you're teaching a first period class on a Monday morning. However, regardless of this knowledge, my psychology teacher somehow was always able to have everyone in my class smiling and paying attention with a random, humorous story from his weekend and a witty pun.

However, this Monday morning was very different.

It was that day that we discussed war mentality and other corresponding topics. For most of the kids in my class, this was just another subject we needed to cover before the end of the year. For me, it spurred an anxiety attack right in the middle of our discussion.

My anxiety eventually dissipated after the class ended and I did not think much of it, as I was growing accustomed to my anxiety flaring up without warning. However, that afternoon, I happened to stop by his classroom with another classmate who needed to grab her books. While there, he asked me how I was doing and I, instead of saying my usual, dismissive “I’m good. You?” reply, spat out how I truly felt.

I told him how morbid his class discussion had been that day and how it had almost instantly spurred my anxiety, as if he could go back in time and change his lesson plan or, frankly, do anything about it. We stared at each other in brief silence for a few seconds while I quickly regretted ever entering his room. Instead of judging me or dismissing my comments, we sat and talked about my anxiety for a few minutes before I had to leave. Then, the next morning, instead of his usual antics, my psychology teacher started the class with something new. He only said that he wanted to lighten the conversation from yesterday’s troubling discussion before showing us a video entitled, Kid President’s 20 Things We Need to Say More Often(click the link if you'd like to smile!) He ended the conversation with the quote, “Life is tough, guys, but so are you.”

Ever since I had been getting anxiety attacks and increased anxiety in general, no one in my life (outside my parents and doctor) had ever asked me about it, let alone done anything to make me feel better about it. Even when I told them about what I was going through, they never did much to help and their lack of response made it feel like they did not care. Still to this day, even though I've left my high school, my psychology teacher still checks in on me, asks to read my short stories and discusses them with me, and never fails to make me smile, just like he had when I was in class.

My psychology teacher proved to me that someone did care about what I was going through. He helped me realize what I always needed and, to this day, it has made all the difference.