The following story is from Ella sharing her person experiences of dealing with anxiety and depression
To be honest, I didn’t know what I was going through was a mix of anxiety and depression. I thought that was just the way I was. I didn’t like getting up and going out and building my dreams, making new friends or being “out there”. I used to be that way, but something in me changed over time. I became less talkative and more worried. I was no longer surrounded by people that made me feel at home. I was around nobody I knew and felt alone, in my head. I saw how easy it was for others to make meaningful friendships from smalltalk, which I hated. I almost became jealous of seeing people living their lives while I would just sit at home, too afraid to show my face anywhere. But it came in waves. Some days I would not listen to myself and just leave my house. I would experience panic attacks on the bus, or train, or break down in my university stairwell, quickly wiping my tears and forcing myself to smile, to appear happy. I wasted all my money on uber because I couldn’t handle getting back on to a bus, which sounds so fucking stupid but something in me told me that I just couldn’t hack it. I would miss lessons because the thought of people looking at me, made me itch. It was the lowest I had ever felt of myself. And the birth control was not helping. My hair would fall out, I would not eat at all. I would lie in bed and stare at my ceiling waiting for the day to be over just so I could do it all again. I became very ill and ended up overdosing on birth control, because I couldn’t keep up with that fucking pill system. It all became so hard. I never became suicidal, and don’t think I would ever intend to hurt myself but there were days when I just imagined, what if I was not here anymore? What if I just disappeared? Would anyone care or would they move on swiftly? I questioned it a lot.
I am the most sensitive I have ever been and some days I just sit back and think, there is truly no one like me. At all. I felt isolated and alienated from everyone, like I couldn’t relate to what anybody would say. I hated the crying the most; the feeling of looking so weak and emotional in front of normal people. I would get into fights over stupid shit like the bathroom being dirty just because I wanted to fight. I became so emotionally angry and would break all my things.
I began taking therapy, but every session I would leave in tears. Over simple questions like “how is your life going?”. The thought of thinking about it would make me cry instantly. I stopped going to that too, because I couldn’t handle it. This isn’t really a recovery story because I am still going through it, but it is getting better. I no longer neglect taking care of myself and I have become more gentle and kind, treating myself like a best friend rather than someone I hate. I still have my days but I’ve decided that I need to take time to be sad, rather than repressing it until something minor happens causing me to have a crazy meltdown. I do not take medication because I do not trust it. I have been doing some self-healing remedies like meditation or singing. It’s honestly just about being easy on yourself, especially during fragile times. If something does not feel right, do not force yourself to do it. But do not continue living in that safety net; get out of your comfort zone sometimes. Sometimes it will help and sometimes it won’t but you just have to prepare for that and continue being patient as well as kind.