Let me first start off by disclosing I did not in any way have a bad life. I was dealt a lot of great cards, some that many will never have. But I was also dealt a lot of not so great cards that some people will never experience. I knew I wanted to share my story, but I struggled with attaching my name to it. I am not one who shares my personal problems with friends, let alone the world, but I am struggling with something a lot of college students battle, so please respect that when reading.
In May, I was clinically diagnosed with severe depression and severe anxiety. This diagnosis did not appear overnight: it was a gradual process that a lot of factors took into place. I first noticed signs of depression in my early teen years, and my anxiety has been present virtually as long as I can remember. You might be asking yourself why an adorable girl from Boca Raton who has been in private schooling and grew up with both her parents present would be depressed, right?
I was nine years old when my dad was diagnosed with Radiation Induced Heart Disease. This is a disease that was brought on by his cancer treatment he received in his late teenage years. He was given 5 to 10 years to live, and my life was turned upside down. I honestly have very little memories before my dad was sick – that is all I knew. I was ashamed of it, it made me different than all the other kids and I never talked about it.
When I was 12, my dad’s hospital trips became more frequent, and with that, my eating became less frequent. I spent several months getting by barely eating, if not eating at all, until that was put to a stop and I was monitored to eat at all meals. From there, the thought of eating these meals made me sick, so that’s what I did, made myself sick. I then spent the next several weeks being monitored all the time during and after meals, I lost all rights to privacy and normality; I will always suffer from eating issues. Once my eating was on track, I went through a stint of self-harming and sleeping pills. My world was spinning out of control, and my eating and my body were the only things I could even try to control. This was all decided to be a hormone imbalance and was righted out.
My dad got sicker and I stayed on track with my health as his disintegrated. Only the people closest to me knew he was sick, but I never told them he was dying. Trips to the hospital became more frequent than before and new parts of his body were seeming to shut down every year. This sent my anxiety through the roof. Anytime my phone would ring, I would miss a call, wake up in the morning, go home, leave my room, or go to bed, I was terrified he would be dead. My dad miraculously made it to my high school graduation, and a week later that call I had been dreading arrived.
A lot of my friend’s first signs that something was even wrong with my dad was when they were standing next to me at his grave. Without my friends (you know who you are) I would not have gotten through that summer – my depression would have swallowed me whole. I stayed home my first year of college knowing my dad would be dying soon, and I needed to be there for my mom and brother since I am the strong one. I helped them put the pieces back together and went away to college. I moved to Orlando, and after a break up with my first love, my depression was back and ready to pounce hard.
Over the past year I pulled farther and farther away from everyone I could and everyone that would let me. I would fight with the people who meant the most to me and attach myself to ones who didn’t care. For the girl who never cried, stubbing my toe would set me off for hours. I felt like I was insane and no one could understand what was possibly going on in my head. I was being irrational and I knew it but couldn’t stop it even if I tried. I was terrified I had bipolar disorder because anything and everything could change my mood. I was unstable and I had enough. I went to the UCF Counseling Center where they diagnosed me and sent me to the Psychiatrist in the Heath Center.
I am now proud to say after several different dosages and brands of antidepressants, I have lost my 14 pounds of depression fat to be back to my usual weight and usual self. There is finally, for the first time in my life, light at the end of the tunnel. I am in therapy once a week and have probably the greatest support system ever. I feel like the real me that everyone else sees and I am blind to. I still have a lot to work on, but I am confident that one day this will all be something that happened to me and not something that I am. Depression and anxiety don’t rule me, I rule them. I have complete control of falling back into the hole of depression and dealing with my anxiety in moments of attack.
I wanted to share my story because I know so many people suffer from this, and it isn’t something to be ashamed of. Yes, some days I still feel like a crazy person, but even people who are in good mental health feel crazy. I am and will be okay because I got help before it was too late. I don’t know where I would be if I didn’t start treatment, and to be honest, thinking about it scares me. If you feel like you are lost or need help, get it immediately! I waited way too long to get the help I needed, and I wouldn’t have to be on so many medications and in such intense therapy if I got the help I needed sooner. If you have a friend who you think is suffering from a mental heath illness, bring it to their attention or their parent’s attention. They will be mad at you for the time being, but they will eventually thank you and owe you everything, I know I do for my best friend. We have so many free and inexpensive resources at UCF to get the mental help anyone needs, so please use it while you can!
If you or someone you know is suffering from a mental illness contact:
Counseling Center
University of Central Florida
4000 Central Florida Blvd.
P.O. Box 163170
Orlando, FL 32816
(407) 823-5415