I should be in class right now, but instead I’m at the counseling center. Why? Because today was another bad anxiety day.
I was diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder as a freshman in college. After diagnosis, I worked hard to try to hide my anxiety from my friends and family. If I finally did tell someone or if someone found out, it wouldn’t bring me relief, but instead made me feel even more compelled to show them just how fine I was. I even attended counseling sessions in secret thinking I could “cure” my anxiety on my own. I would see signs around campus promoting the conversation of mental health and breaking the stigma while holding onto my own preconceived notions of what mental health was — something to be ashamed of.
I hid my anxiety from my hometown friends, my family and even my parents throughout summer. By the time school started again, I was an emotional wreck from trying to muscle through my anxiety on my own. It took my third therapist to convince me that trying medication wasn’t cheating my way to a “cure.” I believed that people who took medication must be really screwed up while also conveniently denying that I had any real problem. To me, taking medication meant admitting I had a problem. However, with the help of the people who love me the most, I realized that taking medication didn’t change who I was and that I was holding onto a meaningless stereotype. I needed to stop judging others, but I also needed to start accepting myself.
It’s been a month since I have started being open about my struggle and have finally gone through the stages of acceptance to where I can now reach the point of being proud of my anxiety. I’m proud of every day that I improve on my mental health. I’m proud of myself for not going to class today and putting my mental health first. I’m proud of myself for writing this article.
I tell people I take anti-anxiety medication because everyone has struggles. Telling someone that I’m proud of my own struggle could be the one thing they needed to hear to be proud of their own struggle. However, my anxiety is nowhere near “cured” and I still have good days, great days and bad days, but at least now I’m being my own hero.