This post will be deeper than most, but having to take time away from blogging, (mainly for school) I have this urge to talk about my experience. This post will be long, but I encourage you to read it!
This started when I tweeted about my last day of therapy, and the amount of people who reached out to me telling me how brave I was, or that they had no idea what I was going through. I am not sharing this for sympathy, just strictly for the fact that when I was in my darkest days, I felt like no one would understand how I was feeling or that anyone would even care. I am here to tell you that is so NOT true.
It began the summer going into my sophomore year of college, I was transferring into a new college where I knew very little people. I was really struggling on finding who I was, and how I was going to make a difference. I was in a toxic relationship, not knowing if today was going to be a good day. I felt trapped, and that I wasn’t strong enough to be alone. I never wanted to be with my friends, and very rarely did anything for myself. I felt abandoned. On top of all of this, at my previous job I was dealing with sexual harassment issues, and no one cared to do anything about it. It turned legal, but I shut it down to avoid any added stress that a trial would cause.
One morning I woke up feeling sick to my stomach, I didn’t know what was wrong but I just went on with my day. Days turned into weeks, I constantly felt nauseous. I didn’t have a social life. I couldn’t eat real food without an intense pain in my stomach. I felt dizzy, and weak. It took hours to fall asleep at night, and I started experiencing panic attacks. I had stomach ulcers form because of stress.
I saw five different doctors within a week, and no one could tell me what was going on. I started seeing a primary doctor, and she asked if I had any stressors in my life. I started laughing, and the laughter turned into tears and I realized by body physically couldn’t take anymore. She prescribed me anxiety and depression medication and suggested I went to therapy. I took both medications daily for about seven months and I finally started feeling like myself. I was me again.
The next day I started going to therapy, because I was emotionally drained and I felt I had nothing to lose from going. I went once a week for seven months, then started going every other week until I felt confident enough to use the tools I learned on my own. I was scared, but I knew the time was right. My last therapy session was June 19th and with that the decision of going was the best decision I have ever made.
How I deal/dealt with my anxiety:
- Writing out what is bothering you, or talking to your mom always helps 🙂
- Do things for yourself—Take yourself on a date!!
Always remember you are never alone, and the pain you feel right now is temporary. Never be ashamed for reaching out for professional help. These tough times have shaped me into who I am today, and although it was a tough ride I am forever thankful.
You were made for more.