Hello my lovelies! Welcome back!

So, this is something very unusual for me to be posting about, usually my articles are really light-hearted and fun, but this is quite a bit different and out of character. I decided to be open about this because it's quite a bit part of my life, and I want to be as honest with you as possible.

So anxiety is no joke, I'm sure most of you know that. I have GAD, Generalized Anxiety Disorder. Now, just so we're clear, anyone can have anxiety, it's what we refer to as daily anxiety, but it only becomes a disorder when it interferes with your daily life and routine. I was diagnosed with severe GAD, which means I have ten times as much anxiety as a person with daily anxiety. I take medication for my anxiety and I also regularly visit a therapist.

So a first remember my anxiety being a problem when my old school had shut down and I was getting bullied at a school I had just transferred to. Now, I don't know if the bullying was a result of my anxiety, or if it was brought up even more than before, but it became something I couldn't control. I cried every night, not only battling with anxiety, but also depression. I struggled for a very long time, trying to get past my suicidal feelings. I'm not comfortable with going in too deep into all of my attempts or struggles, but they were very real and heartbreaking.

I was upset because I felt like no one could understand me, and that I was all alone. My friends would constantly tell me to ignore the bullies, but all I wanted was for someone to just listen, and give me real advice. Even after I left, my depression and anxiety carried on. I eventually confided in one of my teachers who had to tell the school counselor of my depression and anxiety, and i was flagged at school for being suicidal. 'Flagged' is when the teachers keep a close watch on you to make sure you aren't going to take your life.

The school counselor contacted my parents and I thought it was over for me, I really did. Things were going even more downhill, and I hit rock bottom. At one point I couldn't seem to care anymore, I was numb, I couldn't feel. That whole second year is a blur, I just remember everyday being the same, walking to my classes, tired eyes, zombie-like state. I wouldn't get any sleep because I'd be crying the whole night. I feel awful that my brother (we shared a room together) had to listen to me crying every night, but I couldn't seem to stop. I was putting on a front for everyone.

I had a couple issues with my parents and we argued a lot, but they soon contacted a therapist, and set up a meeting. At first I wouldn't tell her anything about my past, we'd only talk about my friends and school. But soon I began to open up. Over the summer, I started to heal slowly, I didn't get to see my therapist that much due to covid, but I was blooming into something great. I became happy and organized. I had my little slip ups, like when I received a message from one of the bullies, I sank to the floor and cried for a bit, but then I picked myself up and I gathered up the courage to block them. I had been afraid for a while, I wanted to monitor what they were saying about me over social media, for some reason I had to know, even if it stung. But I finally blocked them.

Things were going great. But then school started and I thought I'd have everything under control, it was my second year at my school, after transferring to the school I was bullied at, I transferred to another school. Quite a lot of moving in a year, but it was worth it, I wasn't being bullied and I had really god friends that had my back, but still, I started slipping, and I had no reason to be feeling the way I was.

Eventually I started seeing my therapist again, I was given the option to take medication for my anxiety. At first I refused, I was scared it would change me, ruin my front that I'd put up, but then I realized, I'd finally be happy. I'm still in the process of my medication getting ready to work, and I'm waiting for the effects to kick in, it seems like it's going to take forever, but I need to stay patient.

I'm sharing this now because I've been feeling alone lately. Out of control even. I don't do things that are good for me anymore, I just stay in bed and sleep, or eat junk. It's not good for me at all, but I'm so tired. I don't know what to do. I'm just waiting for my medication to take charge. Even though it's already been a month.

Aside from my current feelings, I hope anyone who is going through something similar, can understand that it will get better. And we're in this together, it's a long, but necessary battle, and once we overcome it, it'll be so worth it.

I want people to know my story. To know what I have fought for. I hope they know my story someday.

Thank you for reading!


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