1 Week

Wednesday 22nd, August 2018. The day I got my diagnosis of generalised anxiety disorder, GAD. One week since I got put on an antidepressant. One week since my life changed completely.

Mainly, because it has been one week since my parents starting taking me seriously. One week since my friends believed I'm not just making up excuses. One week since my co-workers realised I'm not just this shy or ignorant person. One week since people have started trying to understand.

Before that, it was always "You're fine, there's nothing wrong with you" and "You just need to calm down and you will be fine."

I wish it was that easy that I could just calm down. I wish there was nothing wrong with me. If I could choose my life, anxiety is not a thing I would choose to live with.

"If it were as easy as staying calm and thinking positively, we wouldn't be struggling in the first place."

Anxiety interferes with all aspects of my life. It makes me talk myself out of doing things that I really want to do.

If I want to phone my family, my anxiety convinces me they don't want to talk to me, I'm just annoying. If I want to have that girly day with my best friend of 16 years, my anxiety convinces me that she doesn't want to spend time with me, she just does it because she feels pity for me because no one really likes me. I could be having a perfectly normal work shift and my anxiety will remind me of that really embarrassing thing I said four years ago to a co-worker and convinces me that they still remember and laugh at me all the time for it.

My anxiety controls me. My anxiety decides what I do for 99.9 percent of my time. Most of the time it decides I should be alone because I don't deserve the company of anyone else because I am annoying, a waste of space, embarrassing. Just not someone that people want to be around, be seen with or know.

But it has been a week since I started to get help. It has been a week since I decided that I will not let my anxiety win. I will not let it control my life.

My anxiety will no longer make my decisions for me.

I will make that phone call, have that girly day, do anything, or see anyone that I want to. I no longer care if people remember things I said years ago, I am a different person now than I was back then. I am stronger. I am a fighter.

Because I am good enough. I am worth people's time. I am not a waste of space. I will no longer believe what my GAD wants me to believe.

I am still not where I want to be with my mental health, but thank goodness I am not where I used to be.

I take antidepressants every day. I do not say this with shame. I fight every day for my mental health. I will use whatever weapons I can to win this battle.

I am 22 years old. I have had anxiety for as long as I can remember, but had a diagnosis for one week. But I will not let it define me. I do not suffer from anxiety. I battle my anxiety. And I will win.

I am one in four. End the stigma. Talk about anxiety. Talk about depression. Talk about your mental health. It is important. YOU are important.

Just know that you never have to apologise for being you. Anxiety, depression, or any other mental health issue that you battle is nothing you have to feel sorry for. Your fears, triggers, and feelings are not insignificant. They aren't dumb. They aren't irrational. They are very real for you, never apologise for them.