Since the last book I'd read spoke about anxiety, it's given me inspitation to write about my experience regarding my mental health and how I've dealt with it for the past couple years.
I've briefly told a version of this story before in another post here, but this one will go into a bit more detail. It's going to be a bit of a long one.
I believe that my mental health started to rapidly decline when I was about 14 or 15, only a few years ago. My first years of secondary school went great, I'd made few but very close and sweet friends, my grades were excellent, and I was genuinely happy. But at one point, my grades started falling, and so did my motivation. School started to become the worst thing imaginable and sometimes when I felt like I was going to lose it, I'd make excuses to skip classes. I seriously got lucky with my final exams, because I'd barely graduated. If I'd scored even a fraction lower, I wouldn't have made it and would have had to redo my last year. Given my already fragile state back then, I don't know if I would've been able to handle it.
Graduating secondary school actually came as quite a surprise to me, and since I was so focused on getting through all that, I'd never completely thought out what I'd do next. While being rejected by the college I originally signed up for, I tried applying for the next best thing, a college about a 40-minute bus ride away, which was simultaneously the closest one to home. I continued to live at my parents' because as a student, I didn't have to pay for bus fares anyway. Though my home situation wasn't doing too well either at that time. I regularly got into fights with my parents and they drove me crazier by the minute. I just couldn't stand to live with them anymore. The whole thing was one disaster waiting to happen.
So, with remaining stress from secondary school, stress from starting college, and pressure from my parents, I'd finally cracked.
I was having very frequent mental breakdowns and decided to drop out of college as soon as I could. I hadn't even lasted until Christmas. My coach was very understanding of the whole situation, so it was a relief to be fully honest with her. My parents on the other hand, weren't too thrilled.
I would spend month after month, day after day in bed, watching Friends with chocolate or a tub of ice cream, or simply just crying until my lungs gave in. I didn't know what I wanted to do, but all I knew was that there was no way I'd let myself suffer again.
Thankfully, I had a good friend nearby. On one of my darkest days - I'd just gotten into a huge fight with my mother - I'd called up my friend and asked her if we could hang out. She said yes straight away, no questions asked. It was weird how I could feel more at home at her place than at mine. Till' this day, almost two years later, she still has no idea why I'd come over so out of the blue. She's never asked either. One of these days I'm going to have to remind myself to let her know how much of a help she'd been.
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| Photo courtesy of Brandon Woelfel |
So after summer, I spent eight months in New York. Slowly, I noticed progress. It really felt as if a weight had lifted from my shoulders. It really helped to be surrounded by strangers, in a strange place. I could reinvent myself, and that's exactly what I did. I pushed myself to do things I never would've at home. At the end of my trip, I felt happier, healthier, and more sure of myself. I'm not saying that it completely 'cured' me, but my time in New York had certainly helped me open my eyes.
As I'm dealing with college again at the moment, I do notice the huge difference from now and two years ago. My first college experience was doomed from the start. I don't know how I thought I could've ever finished the study course when I never wanted it in the first place. Now, I'm only home on the weekends, which is very refreshing. Don't get me wrong, I love my parents, but they can get on my nerves very quickly. In addition, my grades have been great so far, and I haven't had any big setbacks yet.
I'm still not 100% better, and I seriously doubt it's possible to get to that point. I still find myself on days where I'm stressed and panicking, and I get flashbacks from those dark times. I always try not to let it eat at me. I remind myself that I've gone through a really bad time before, and I can do anything that life throws at me now.
I knew that I was starting to fall in love with life again when I didn't dread getting out of bed anymore. It truly is amazing what a little bit of time away can do for your mental health. It certainly helped crank mine up. And of course I know that not everybody is in a position to get far away. A great alternative is to find a place closeby to get away, even if it's just for a few hours to recharge. For me, currently, it's a nice little bookshop, not even too far from college.
I'm content, but I'm endlessly improving and creating myself.
Love, Faith
