My struggles with the devil in my head

A Story by Rachelem

Trigger warning

I have been anxious for as long as I can remember. I was diagnosed when I was just three years old. I have a long family history of mental health issues, so it's kind of part of who I am.
Growing up I always feel different from my friends. I couldn't go and have sleepovers, I felt things more intensely, I always had an obsession that I was dying. I would ask over and over if I was going to die because I was sure if I didn't ask then I would. Of course they got annoyed by this and I felt helpless.
I remember being in the fourth grade, every morning when it became time to get ready for school I feel sick to my stomach. The thoughts of going to school made me physically sick. I was scared something would happen to me or my parents. I hated the feeling of being somewhere trapped know able to leave if I needed to. I would stay home A few days a week, which only caused me more problems in the long run.
I remember looking at the clock and counting down the hours until I got home. Looking out the window all day long wondering if my parents were okay. Waiting for the bus to get down the hill and if I saw a car in the driveway then I would know something was wrong.
It seems like the older I got the worst my anxiety grew. I was obsessed with the thought of having a brain tumor or some sort of serious fatal disease. Constantly googling my symptoms, overanalyzing body sensations that would send me into a full blown panic.
I never really felt validated. I don't think anyone realized how much I was struggling. I felt like I had no support and I was stuck. I hated the feeling of not being able to control how I felt.
When I was in the 8th grade, my parents separated. I had always had a really good life, I was one of my only friends that still had married parents. I think that's when I first started showing signs of depression.
One day in freshman year, coming in three hours late because I just couldn't find the motivation to drag myself out of bed, I was crying to my mom saying that I needed to do something about this so she made me a psychiatrist appointment. He prescribed me some medication, but I didn't feel any ease. So I tried a few more, but still no difference.
I went to counseling a few times, it didn't really help me. They would tell me to just picture a stop sign in my head. When my brain is going 1,000,000 miles an hour and I'm in fight for flight that's the last thing I think of. I stopped attending sessions, counselor after counselor, it's like even they didn't understand the severity or could help me.
I starred self harming when I was 14. I remember the first time, I was so overwhelmed and wasn't able to calm myself down so I did it. Since then it has been an ongoing problem for me.
I stopped hanging out with my friends. I stopped going to school. My friends would tell me that I was lazy, they would make me feel bad and like I wasn't doing good enough when all I was trying to do was get by each day.
I begin feeling more hopeless, self-conscious, I felt like a zombie.I did not see a reason for getting out of bed in the morning so why would I care about going to school I did not see a reason for getting out of bed in the morning so why would I care about going to school? I didn't care about anything. I grades started slipping, I was late every day that I was there (The few days a week.)
I was 16 The first time I tried to kill myself. I got the tub started and was ready to drown myself. Covered in blood screaming on the floor, someone found me and I went to the emergency room.
I couldn't figure out what was wrong with me and why I felt like this. Why nothing I did would help I was constantly beating myself up for the way I was turning out.
Every day people would ask why I wasn't in school, make fun of me for it which only made me feel worse about myself because they had no idea what I was going through.
Junior year was my worst. It's also your most important high school year. I blew it off. I regret it I wish I could go back. I didn't know how easy I had it. Somehow I made it and I was a senior. I had waited so long to be a senior and graduate and get the hell out of high school. I told myself that I was going to put everything I had into it to make the best out of it. But I still couldn't do it.
Somehow, barely, I graduated. A few months before graduation and I realized I didn't have enough credits A few months before graduation and I realized I didn't have enough credits. I had to put in a s**t ton of work to do independent classes and whatever I could,internships to make up for what I had missed. The day I graduated high school is one day I'll never forget and I will always be proud of myself for sticking through.
After graduation, I moved a half an hour away to an apartment with my long-term boyfriend. I was in love with him. After living together though, I realized maybe it wasn't right for me. But I told myself this is my life now this is how it's going to be. I stayed in the apartment all day when he worked, he didn't like my friends. I didn't have much of a life besides sitting in the dark all day.
After living with him for a while, 2 apartments later, we ended up breaking up. This was the worst pain I have ever felt in my life. My heart hurt. I was physically sick. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep, I couldn't function so bad that I ended up going to the emergency room. They treated me so poorly because I mentioned the word suicidal. They treated me like I was a criminal. I needed help, they made it worse.
I begin self-medicating with alcohol, marijuana, and cigarettes. The first thought in the morning would be "I need to drink." It was becoming a problem for me, especially because alcoholism runs in my family. Drinking was the only time I felt somewhat ease, until it wore off and I felt even worse. I knew it wasn't the proper way to cope with my feelings, but I didn't know what else to do.
I tried working jobs, only for all of them to end the same way. Me having a major panic attack and feeling trapped. I felt like a failure. Lazy, worthless. People put me down all the time about not working. I wanted so badly to work and be able to provide for myself but I just couldn't do it.
I will never forget the day my best friend called me and said I have to tell you something that's really going to mess you up. I already had a feeling about what it was but she told me that my best friend was messing around with my ex. I felt my body drop. I didn't feel any emotion, just this intense impulse to grab a bottle of pills in the night and go downstairs and just die. Luckily, my mom and me downstairs with the pillowcase around my neck trying to strangle myself. The ambulance was called. I was put in handcuffs and pushed to the ground by the police. Once again I was feeling so horrible but all they could do was make me feel like a criminal. I begged them not to send me away because I knew it would only make me worse. "How are we supposed to help you?" They asked. I have no idea.
At 18, I was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder, bipolar, and PTSD. BPD made sense to me it perfectly explained everything. My intense rage, jealousy, Extreme sensitivity, impulses, fear of abandonment, everything. BPD is not who I am, but it is a part of me that will always be there. I just have to manage it.
Today, I have been in a constant panic mode for the past week. I can't eat without feeling sick. I can't leave my house without thinking I'm dying, or going to faint, or have some serious type of medical emergency.
It's crazy how anxiety messes with your whole body and all the physical symptoms you go through. I have been told by people that anxiety isn't real and it's all in my head. I wish they could feel what I'm feeling for just a minute.
If anything good can come out of my battles, it will be to help people. I don't really know how to help myself yet, but I want to be successful and do us much good as I can. I want people to know that they aren't alone and there's hope.
I have more bad days than good days, but the little moments where I feel ecstatic give me hope that someday I can live a normal life. Anxiety is not me. Anxiety is evil. Mental illness is real. It's just as real as any other disease. You might not be able to see it, but it's there. Your brain is an organ that can malfunction just like anything else. We are not crazy we are sick. Please don't be afraid of the stigma. There are good people out there that want to help you. Surround yourself with positive people who understand how you're feeling and don't put you down. Don't put up with anybody that makes you feel crazy.
Learn how to face your fears, and make friends with them. You are so much stronger than you realize. One day I will go into my story with more detail, but for now I hope this can help someone. You are never alone.