I'm choosing to share my story for those who don't feel they can share their own. If you are suffering you are not alone.

Ever since I can remember, I've been a worrier. Heck, in sixth grade I had a meltdown because I was so nervous to take a test that would grant me entrance to a gifted education. My panic only increased since then, but I never really thought much of it. When it was suggested to me in high school to try therapy, I rejected it. I'm not crazy, I can handle my problems, I don't need this. I did need it.

My anxiety picked up full speed my freshman year of college. Moving away from my friends and family into a suite with five other women took a major toll on me. It took a few panic attacks for me to finally decide to seek help. It took weeks for me to get an appointment with mental health services at my university. I remember going in person in tears, trying to make an appointment and them still turning me away.

I was quick to learn that mental illness isn't something that ever goes away, which is so important to keep in mind. I put on a strong face, no one who doesn't know me well ever realizes how hard I am on myself, how I feel on the inside and how I can break down behind closed doors. People constantly say to me I can't imagine you ever not being happy. Well I hate to break it to you, but I am very often not happy. Most of the time there is no rhyme or reason, just an overwhelming feeling of self doubt, constant nervousness in my stomach, and fear of the future.

People who don't have these feelings often don't understand what it's like to spiral out of control on the inside, while you seem perfectly fine on the outside. The thoughts creep up on you when you don't expect them to: Why isn't this person texting me back? Oh no did I turn in my paper? Wow I have so much homework this week. Soon the panic spirals out of control and you lose appetite from the nausea, your breathing gets quicker and your eyes fill with tears. For someone with anxiety or depression the feelings of panic and worry can be paralyzing.

To my people (you know who you are): thank you for loving me unconditionally. Thank you for knowing when I'm having a bad day, coming over after I send one text message and scooping me up in a hug. You may not completely understand what I'm feeling, but the cure for it all is feeling loved.

Mental illness does not take a certain shape or form. The quietest person who keeps to themselves isn't always the one with anxiety or depression. A lot of times it is the person who is the center of attention, who doesn't seem afraid to put himself/herself out there but is really terrified of doing just that, who seems to always have a smile on his/her face.

However, I am not my anxiety. I am a ball of energy who loves all things donuts and Justin Bieber. I am the girl who is the first to crack an inappropriate joke and always has a smile on my face. I will never stop being myself, no matter the condition.