When I was in fifth grade, I experienced my first panic attack. As time went on, this turned into severe anxiety and depression that was neglected by most everyone I knew because I was able to function on the outside. Due to the strong disbelief for the existence of mental illness in my culture, I was told to just 'snap out of it' and to 'stop making drama.' I fell into a deep depression, developed a short-temper, and a rather avoidant attatchment with everyone I know closely. And still here I am, able to function. The only reason why I choose to do things is because I want to participate in society very badly. They don't know how every little thing I do, is accompanied with a feeling like I am dragging ten elephants on my back along with me wherever I go. All of my breakdowns happen in silence in my room. I have gotten so used to crying and quickly wiping my eyes when someone comes by that my face doesn't even look like I've just cried anymore. And here I am, nine years later with the same problems. I only recieved very brief counseling from my college center and then I am alone again. More than the illnesses themselves, its just the sheer thought of nobody knowing that makes everything 50x worse. My parents don't know(they know but don't take it seriously at all), my few friends don't know, and the reason why I choose not to tell them is because I have been made fun of for these things so many times before that I cannot bear to risk it again. I don't know what to do. I feel so trapped. Can somebody please give me some hope?
Reply With Quote
