Depression…Parte Dos

“Ruina” by Frida Kahlo

Depression and anxiety are two afflictions that run in my family. As I grew older they were something I saw firsthand and learned more about. Hence, when my second episode hit me in the summer of 2012 I knew exactly what I was dealing with, but I did not know how to deal with it. This episode was different in that I was aware of what was happening to me, I was far from home and anxiety had been thrown into the mix.                                              For most of the summer I thought I was going to die or pass out at least 3 times a day. Though sometimes I did wish I would just pass out so I would no longer feel my physical manifestations of my anxiety. I stayed in most of the time for anxiety attacks along with vertigo and shortness of breath followed me everywhere I went grocery stores, social events, work, the metro etc… I had even forgotten how to breathe naturally. I only felt semi okay in my apartment. I went on for almost three months trying to manage my symptoms as best as I could with the help of my two amazing roommates who never hesitated to comfort me as best they could. During this entire ordeal I had never mentioned to my family what I was going through, I did not want them to worry, but they were one of the main reasons I decided to seek professional help. I finally went to my schools counseling center. It went against all my natural instincts to sit there and explain why I was seeking help. I wanted to run out of there. As I sat there explaining and answering, what I believed were rather invasive, questions I was telling myself that I sounded stupid, I was being dramatic and I was weak. I was judging the hell out of myself for asking for help. The head psychologist scheduled me for two sessions a week, one with a psychiatrist and the other with a therapist, until my symptoms were under control. And for the first time in what felt like a fucken eternity I did not feel completely hopeless. –Bella