It has seemed like the weight of the world has been on my shoulders lately. I feel out of control. I feel like I’m sinking.

Reaching out for help has been something that I’ve always struggled with. I have a tendency to bottle up my emotions until the mento is dropped in and I explode. I’m sure many can relate and many can’t attest that this is in no way, rational. Yes, I admit, I can be irrational! Can’t everyone?

When I first learned about the counselor on campus, I was hesitant about going. I have been through the process of telling therapists about my background and heavy life events and I simply did not want to do this again. I didn’t want yet another’s unwanted opinion barging in on my isolation process. Yet, I scheduled an appointment and went. I saw in myself that the weight of the anxiety really was making me sink.

For a couple months now I’ve slept away my time. All I am motivated to do is sleep. I think about all the things I could and should be doing and it sounds so great to make a plan! I’ll make the plan and then I sleep. I’ve been panicking and having anxiety attacks like no other. It’s comparable to a petit mal seizure. I don’t necessarily have the tell-tale signs of an anxiety attack. In other words, I zone out and can’t hear. I don’t shake or gasp for air. Instead, my face turns pale and my pupils enlarge. I feel dizzy but can’t speak up. I’ve also had an odd appetite. Sometimes I feel like eating, and then when I do I get an instant stomach ache. Sometimes I don’t eat at all and then I also get an instant stomach ache, longing for food.

So yeah, I went to the school counselor. To be honest, I’m tired of being tired. I want to want this life again. I want to wake up and be so excited to be alive that I can’t wait for the next day.

In my counseling appointment, we talked about more than I expected. I finally felt validated. She helped me to re-realize one of the most important things: my anxiety is lying to me.

For months I’ve believed every single lie my anxiety tells me. From the littlest struggles all the way to life-changing decisions, I’ve believed every lie. I chose to sleep to put my anxiety to rest. I panicked because my anxiety took over. I didn’t eat because my anxiety made me sick. My anxiety lied to me.

I’m glad I reached out for help, but this isn’t the end. I’m not all better and I’m not done struggling. I still sleep often and have a weird appetite. I still panic and wish things were different. Instead of using the school counselor I made an appointment with my own therapist. I plan on reaching out to family when things get too hard. I plan on following through with all of my plans I make in my head. I’m still struggling, but this isn’t the end.