I never wanted to be this way. As a lonely student wandering the halls of a large high school, I had bigger dreams than this. I wanted to fit in and feel like I belonged, but my eagerness to please people and the cruelty of harsh realities anchored me to a place that was suffocating my every breath. I always thought that the best memories would lay somewhere in between the rusty metal lockers and the old brick walls, but I was very mistaken.
I think high school is a challenging time for a lot of people, and the amount of stress young people face during this time of their lives can be downright unbearable. I worried about everything until anxiety seeped from my pores. I didn’t just want to pass the class, I wanted to prove to my teachers and fellow students that I was supposed to be there. I felt if I didn’t prove that, I was convinced people would catch on to the worthlessness I felt all the time.
I can remember being so jealous that other students my age seemed to live decently normal lives. They had their cliques, their brand name clothes, their boyfriends or girlfriends, and other things that were so incredibly important to a teenager. They looked like they just had it all together. I was mad at myself that I couldn’t keep my emotions in check long enough to feel like I was even somewhat normal. My anxiety had me doubting everything I had ever known.
Groups of students would sit together at the lunch tables, gossiping and laughing at anything they could grasp on to. I would have given anything to be a part of those conversations, but it seemed so far out of reach to me. I wanted desperately to have a place at the table, but I felt more comfortable hiding behind my studies and making sure I flew under the radar.
It starts to take a toll on you when you feel you aren’t seen. The anxiety slipped into depression as I drew out the conclusion that my life would never be what I had intended it to be. It was sad that at the age of 16, I thought my life added no value to this world.
I started seeing a therapist. A psychiatrist adjusted my medications. I was referred to a social worker. I began intensive outpatient therapy. I convinced myself that not only did I not contribute anything to society, I was actually a drain on resources that I felt would never actually help me. It was a lot for a young lady to carry, and I was mentally exhausted from trying not to fall further into darkness.
I cried, a lot. I was terrified that people would eventually see me for the person I thought I was. And I fought against everything. I didn’t want to accept that my views of myself were inaccurate, and I certainly didn’t want to admit that my perspective was very skewed.
I wish I could say I marched off to my freshman year of college and everything changed, but it didn’t. I carried a lot of my challenges over to the next chapter of my life, as many people do. I will tell you what did change though, and that was my decision to accept help. I was in way over my head and thrown in a battle I didn’t know how to fight. One of the best things I ever was able to do for myself was to give up the control and let other people in to my recovery.
Slowly but surely, I started listening to what the therapists were saying and actively participating in the sessions. I communicated with my doctor what medications made me feel better or worse. I learned that these people are professionals with much more skills and knowledge than I have, but they are also not mind readers. They can’t help you if you lie or stretch the reality of what you’re going through.
High school is over and my mindset has changed, but I will always remember the importance of letting people help ease some of your burdens. There are professionals who can give you the opportunity to see things in a different light and can work with you to be the best version of yourself possible. I encourage anyone struggling to reach out to those who can truly make a positive impact on your wellbeing.
You are worthy of receiving whatever help you may need to feel lighter and more whole. It is never too late to ask, and you should not have to feel ashamed for admitting you need some extra support. I hope by sharing this piece of my story, you find comfort in knowing it is completely normal and acceptable to seek professional help. Do what’s right for you, and know that there are a variety of resources to meet your needs.
Sending my hope to you, that you will find the courage within you to seek whatever help you need in this journey.