The History of my Mental Health

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been very anxious and depressed. I don’t like the word depressed because it implies that I sit in my bed crying all day, which is not true. Anyways, this article is just me writing about my mental health, in the hope that someone could relate to this article or learn something.

When I was younger I was constantly anxious, and I was very shy. I didn’t like going to new places, meeting new people, or trying new things. I was always anxious that something would get me or I’d get in trouble. I remember being at the airport at age four and refusing to talk to the TSA agent to confirm my identity, and that caused a problem because they thought that my parents had taken me. I preferred to play by myself, and I was fine with that.

As I got slightly older and went to school, my anxiety continued. Whenever I was the center of attention and all eyes were on me, I would get flustered and start crying. One time in kindergarten, everyone was in the auditorium and I guess my mom came by the school for some unrelated reason and decided to pop in and check on me. All of my peers noticed my mom coming in and said “August, your mom is here!” They were being friendly and were making an observation, as kindergartners do, but I was the center of attention, so I burst into tears and was ushered away. Later on in the year, I never liked going out for recess, because I had to find people to play with, which was nerve racking. Instead, I always tried to stay in and help my teacher in the classroom because it was calm and quiet inside, and most importantly, I was safe in my classroom. What kindergarten chooses to sit out of recess and help wash paint brushes and clean, rather than go play? I answer that- an anxious kindergartener chooses that.

I went to two elementary schools, the first for first and second grade, and the second for third through fifth grade. My time at the first elementary school was remarkable, and I don’t recall being super anxious. Surprisingly, I took my transfer to the second school well, and really liked it there. I had a little group of friends, and I would still try to stay inside during recess to help my teachers. I also got to go to the “gifted” program, which meant I went to a separate classroom a couple times a week with a smaller group of classmates and did more advanced work. My anxieties heightened around fifth grade. Suddenly, I was nervous to answer questions and playing with people during recess made me more nervous than ever.

Towards the end of fifth grade, my parents got divorced, which made me extremely anxious. I don’t like talking about my parent’s divorce, so I’ll leave it at that. Starting sixth grade was nerve wracking, and at that point I pretty much stopped raising my hand to answer questions. It was easier to listen, rather than talk for me. I didn’t have a great group of friends, my friends from elementary school said that I was annoying and that they didn’t like me behind my back, and didn’t really feel like I belonged anywhere. I tried to become friends with the more “popular” students, but they ostracized me as well. Sixth grade was pretty lonely and I didn’t really have any friends (Adia and I’s friendship was just beginning).

By seventh grade, I never raised my hand in class and I had a very small group of friends. I was pretty depressed and extremely anxious, so most days I would stay home. The only memory that drastically stands out to me was going on an overnight field trip and all my friends got to room together, but I was assigned to room with two very popular girls. I found myself sitting around, staring at nothing during that trip. My teacher kept asking if I was ok, and I always said I was. In reality, my small group of friends were in another cabin, and I genuinely didn’t have any other friends to socialize with.

Eighth grade was the worst. My anxiety and depression made it so difficult to even get out of bed and face the world. I truly wanted to die, and I believed there wasn’t anything worth living for. After missing many days of school, my parents made the decision to do hospital- homebound school, which meant a teacher would bring work from my school to me and go over things with me. I abruptly left school without any warning, so my classmates started making rumors and speculating about me. “Did she move?”, “Does she have cancer?”, “I think I saw her at the grocery store?” The fact that people were talking about me at school made me feel undoubtedly anxious. I went to a physiatrist and he prescribed me an antidepressant and anti-anxiety medication, which I still take and don’t see myself stopping anytime soon. I was also diagnosed with depression, generalized anxiety, and social anxiety. Throughout this whole period, I was seeing a therapist, which I didn’t find very helpful. A few small details I’d like to add in is that there was a one day stint of trying outpatient therapy at a psychiatric hospital, which I found downright frightening, since I was the youngest there (13) by a long shot. I had very little social contact throughout eight grade, and by the end I was ready to get out of middle school.

High school brought new beginnings. I joined the colorguard, which made me severely anxious before every practice, but I kept with it, and now I cherish practices. When I returned to school, my classmates were so caught up with the excitement of high school, that they didn’t really notice me. I like high school because it’s easy to blend into the background. I still never raise my hand in class, and prefer to listen, but that’s ok. Personally, I’m enjoying this whole quarantine, and online school thing. It’s perfect for someone who doesn’t enjoy leaving their house. I still am depressed and anxious. A lot of times I wish I just wasn’t alive. I don’t want to kill myself and wouldn’t act on anything, but I just wish I could fall asleep forever. I don’t want to end on such a dreadful note, so I will add that I wrote this article pretty quickly and left out a ton of details. Just know that no matter what you think, you are loved, and it gets better. It might take a while, but it will get better eventually.

-August