If you’re reading this, I want you to know that mental health disorders do not have a face.
“You don’t look like you’re anxious or depressed.”
“Wow, I thought you were the happiest person I knew.”
“But, you have friends, good grades, a loving family.”
These are the responses I usually get when I open up and tell my close friends that I have diagnosed anxiety and depression. It’s not their fault, and to be honest, being the loud and bubbly person I am, who would look at me and assume I wasn’t always happy?
When I was thirteen, I began feeling down unless I was being entertained with the next party, the next sleepover, or the next big event. I thought it was normal, and maybe I just didn’t like being bored or spending time alone. After all, I have always been a social person. Slowly, the waves of ups and downs became more drastic. When I was spending time with friends or family, I was off the walls laughing, but I was going home and crying myself to sleep at night. I had no idea why. It was frustrating to logically know that nothing horrible was wrong, but have feelings of dread that I could not explain. I didn’t know it at the time, but these feelings of dread were just a chemical imbalance in my body-- it was depression.
The depressing thoughts I was feeling scared me so much that I became fearful of them. I would avoid every opportunity away from familiar people and surroundings. If I had a change of environment coming up soon, I would have panic attacks. If you’ve never had a panic attack, imagine suddenly feeling like there is not enough air in the room to keep your lungs working. The room is closing in on you. You can’t stop sweating. You feel like you might die. That is what this paralyzing fear was to me. It was anxiety.
I began to avoid certain situations. I let the fear control my life. I had to be doing something social every weekend day and night so that I did not have time to myself to sit and think. I made sure my entire summer was booked-- long breaks off of school and routine scared me the most. I even avoided going on long trips without close friends. I dreaded change.
Once I began to be transparent about what I was going through with my family and friends, I began to see a difference. I’m not saying that every day is incredible, or that I am completely over this at all. I will never be “over it.” I have accepted that it is how I was made, and while I might not be able to fix this chemical imbalance that used to dictate my every move, I can learn to cope with it.
So, yes, I am a sufferer of anxiety and depression. But, I am also a student at Georgia Tech. I hold a position in my sorority. I am a part of several clubs. I am loud. I am energetic. I am peppy. And I suffer from anxiety and depression. If you take anything away from this, let it be that mental health disorders do not discriminate, and they don’t always follow stereotypes. If you ever feel like you need help, but you’re used to putting on a face for the world, tell one person you trust. I promise, it could change your life.
Alisha K., Georgia Tech ‘22
