For the longest time, I thought I had an anxiety disorder. Ever since high school, I always worried more than my friends and peers, stressing over minute details and minor inconveniences most others breezed over with little thought. I struggled to understand why I catastrophized, overanalyzed, and agonized over these things, and so I began my quest of research to figure out what was wrong with me. After looking at countless different mental disorders, I arrived at Generalized Anxiety Disorder, as it seemed to best fit what I was dealing with.
But there were still characteristics of it I had never experienced, symptoms that didn’t quite align with what I was dealing with. Despite this, having a name for my struggles was something I clung to, as it was a way to explain and justify how I felt. If someone asked why I was stressing and worrying over something that didn’t warrant that attention, I had a justification for it at the ready: “Oh, I have anxiety.” As time passed, however, soon that justification became an excuse. Blaming my emotions and reactions on anxiety allowed me to leave them unaddressed; in the darkness I pushed them down into, they only festered and grew.
When I started college back in 2018, I realized just how badly I needed to address this worry and stress. It had grown into an issue that was affecting almost all aspects of my life; I struggled with staying motivated and engaged with my classes, distance was growing between me and my friends, and I was falling out of love with activities that once brought me so much joy, like hockey. If you asked me who I was my freshman year, I would have told you I was an anxious college student. Anxiety had become so intrinsically linked to my identity that I lost sight of who I was without that label.
What became my breaking point was realizing that I dreaded going to hockey practice, something I once loved, and my fear and worry were overwhelming leading up to games. I dove deeply into this moment of my life in two of my previous articles, linked here and here, but this led me to start attending therapy my following spring semester. When I started therapy, I realized two things: a diagnosis would not solve my problems, and I did not need a diagnosis to get help with what I was dealing with. Anyone can attend therapy, regardless of the scale of their issues, and it can be a great resource for both expanding your knowledge on mental health and receiving support.
I began to learn healthy coping mechanisms and grounding techniques, as well as how to properly address how I felt and reacted to things. Most importantly, I learned how to stop relying on excuses and take responsibility for my mental health, in order to work on becoming the best person I can be. Your actions not only affect your own health, but they affect those around you as well, and being conscious of that can help you to be a better friend, peer, and family member. Additionally, it also allows you to understand how you can best be supported, which is important to explain to those close to you so that they know how they can help you to help yourself.
Today, after nearly four years of prioritizing my mental health and actively trying to properly address it, I better understand the function and importance of a diagnosis. A diagnosis can help you to understand what you are dealing with and how to properly address it, but it is not an excuse or something to lean upon. Diagnoses allow doctors and therapists to properly give you treatment options and for you to receive proper care. Now that I have a better understanding of this, I am in a better headspace to be able to consider what I may be dealing with in a healthier way. The energy I used to devote to self-diagnosing myself I now use towards taking care of myself.
If you are in a similar position to what I was in, or if you simply need to hear the following, I offer you these words: You are not your diagnosis, nor are you your mental illness. Your mental illness does not define you, but rather is a part of your life that you manage. With or without a diagnosis, you deserve to receive help and support, and your struggles are valid. I encourage you to seek ways to support yourself, such as the Counseling Services Center on campus, and know that you are not alone on your quest to understand yourself better and accept yourself.