Family Is Very Important

I’ve spent almost three years suffering from severe symptoms of something that has yet to be diagnosed. The symptoms started the summer before I started college. When I went to my doctor, he told me that I should go on a gluten free dairy free diet and take five different supplements for energy and digestion. With that, I went to college. I was 19, six hours from home, and without a license. From the start, I was already isolated from my classmates. I was shyer than all of my roommates, and I had difficulty finding food to eat on campus or anywhere nearby. As the semester continued, I become more isolated. I was usually alone, whether it was in my dorm, in the classrooms, or in the cafeteria.

I don’t remember the day or the month, but at some point, in my loneliness, I called my mom to check in and I broke down. I remember telling her for the first time ever that “I’m profoundly unhappy” and I wanted to go home. And so, in the beginnings of my depression, I transferred to a school that was two hours away and I went home almost every weekend.

But, still, my depression got worse before the spring semester was over. I had one of my best friends from high school on campus and we spent a lot of time together. I got to know her friends and they became my friends too. Just weeks into the semester, my symptoms, which include severe fatigue and really bad nausea, forced me to drop a class. That made me feel less than everyone else, from my friends; it was another thing that made me different. It took my best friend a few months but she finally convinced me to work out with her. So, we worked out multiple times every week. I loved it although my body was very, very sore every day. And then I had to stop. The exercise made me so exhausted that I could barely get through the classes I had after the workout, so I stopped. When I stopped, she and I hung out less. I felt completely isolated again. The semester ended and I transferred again to a campus less than an hour away from home. I could live at home now. And yet, my depression got worse and worse.

Before the summer was over, I spent almost all of time in my room. I hated leaving the house. I transferred to the college’s online campus. I only spoke to my family. I was always tired and I could barely eat anything without getting nauseous.

It took months and months before I spoke to my friends again and even then, it was few and far between. It took me one month to go from four classes to one. In November, I started my first of many doctors’ appointments. By the time the semester was over, I could barely get through the work and the final. But I passed the class and winter break started.

I didn’t do anything at all. I barely got out of bed. The only thing I did was convince my parents to let me take time off of school. And when the new semester started and all my friends went back to school, I took a medical leave of absence.

During the semester that I’m wasn’t in, my mom and twin sister, who has been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder, spent their time supporting me through every decision and difficulty. They help me through my bad days and make my good ones better.

During the summer, I went to a new doctor who was focused on all types of medicine and nutrition. She recommended trying another diet; one that I’d never heard of: Ketogenic diet. I also started about a dozen new supplements.

Now, in September of 2017, I’m still not in school. I barely talk to any of my friends. One of my best friends since first grade visits often. I’m still seeing two different doctors, I’ve had multiple procedures and blood tests, and nothing has been figured out. I’m no longer on the gluten free dairy free diet. I am still on the Keto diet and the supplements and yet I’m still exhausted all the time, even when I sleep for 12 hours, and nauseous for the majority of the day, whether or not I’ve eaten. I’ve tried many different pills for sleeping, nausea, and depression and, so far, none have worked. Most of my days are awful but my family is my support system; I depend on them to get me through those bad days. Without them, I would be so much worse. They have my back in this fight.

Before everything that’s happened to me, both physically and mentally, I kept everything to myself. I barely spoke to my family about what I was thinking or my mental state. Although I hate my depression and the thoughts it puts in my head, I am thankful for what it has done for my relationship with my mom and sister. I can talk to them about anything and I know they’ll always help me. That’s what my depression and medical mystery have taught me: family is very important.