I thought maybe today would be a good day to tell a bit of my mental health story, and maybe some of you will be able to relate. I choose today because in a couple hours I will be talking to a psychiatrist, and I will hopefully be officially diagnosed for the first time.

So when I was 9 I experienced an intrusive thought and, for the first time, I couldn’t just move past it. It was stuck in my head, going around in circles. It was like my mind was trying to make sense of something that makes no sense. Because intrusive thoughts really don’t make sense, this thought isn’t supposed to be life changing, or make me any better or any worse, I should be able to shrug this off and move on. But how? I didn’t know the answer, all I could do is fight with it until it left me alone, then fight with it again when it came back. I thought I was a bad person for having such horrible thoughts, so I didn’t tell anyone, I didn’t know what they would do.

When I was around 13 my best friend moved away. At this point we were already going to different schools, and I was getting more and more anxious talking to people at my school after failing to make many friends. I felt alone and scared. When I started the new year with my best friend gone, everything changed. My brain crashed down onto itself and I spent many days stuck in my head, defeating intrusive thought after intrusive thought. I was truly stuck. There where good times and bad times, but by the time I finished 8th grade I was anxious and depressed and alone. Some of it was my fault, but that didn’t stop my anxiety. At this point I had learned about words like OCD and intrusive thoughts and had told my parents, but I was unwilling to get treatment do to a fear that I was a bad person without my anxiety.

When I went to high school, I knew it was my chance to do things different, and I knew I had to take it. So I started talking to people more, I was ackward, and at times I would break down in tears thinking about going to a social event, but I did what I could. Junior year, I had two really good friends, and social events where easier. Although my life was good, my intrusive thoughts got worse and made it hard to do work. I would have mood swings where my brain would become foggy and I couldn’t think right. So, I agreed to therapy, which didn’t help too much because I didn’t connect with my therapist. When deciding I needed to switch therapists, the pandemic hit and I stopped therapy altogether.

That brings me to now, my Senior year. I had one last really bad mood swing, where I considered suicide,  before deciding I couldn’t do this anymore, I needed to stick with treatment, despite my fears of living without constant intrusive thoughts. So I got onto Citalopram and stuck with it. I have been on it for about 2 1/2 months and feeling better. I am not fixed, but I believe I will get out of the circle I have been in since 9 years old. I am actually excited to be diagnosed because it feels like a step in the right direction and I have made too many steps back.

I hope that no matter what anyone reading this is going through they know just how not alone they are. I think that is probably the worst lie my brain told me, that I was the only one.