Tales of Adolescent Anxiety, Part 2: The Path to Heaven Runs through Miles of Clouded Hell

**This post, as is the previous post is from a few months ago that I, as usual, meant to post but I then became occupied with other things and it got shoved away, collecting dust. That being said, I'm keeping the contents of the post as-is and will continue to post the entries I had intended to do a few months ago, but just never got around to doing. Some A lot of things have changed since I wrote the majority of this, but I think it's still important to post this. I'm working on another post that will include more current updates on what I'm about to talk about, so you'll just have to come back when I post that.**

This is a continuation of Tales of Adolescent Anxiety. For Part 1 of this saga, go here. Also, as usual, this is a  trigger warnings for anxiety/panic.

April, 2014

Two weeks into my school year, I mustered up enough sanity to make one of the more adult decisions I've made: I contacted my campus's counseling services and began weekly therapy. And, honestly, that's been one of the best decisions I've ever made. After my initial consultation, I was matched up with a young woman who worked mostly with students who have general anxiety and other facets of anxiety. I've been working with my counselor now for almost six months and I will continue to work with her until the end of the year. I really do feel a difference in my thinking and demeanor ever since I started seeing her. If nothing else, it's given me a space to come and vent about my week. What I love about this facility in general is that they cater specifically to college-aged kids and only work with those who go to my school. College kids are a very special breed. We are in a point in our lives where nothing is static. Everything from our living situations to our family and friend dynamics to our class schedules are changing at crazy frequencies. And with every change comes a development in how we will live our adult lives, whether we like them or not.

For most of my journey toward sorting out my anxiety, I never quite felt fully validated about what I was going through. I would fill out surveys at the doctor's office about having anxiety and/or depression. The results would come back and my doctor would tell me right-out that I didn't have depression.

Thanks for that, doc. I could've told you that myself. Then she would ask me if I was self-harming.

My honest answer: No.

Doctor: Are you feeling suicidal at all?

Me: No.

Doctor: Eh. You're fine. You'll get over it. You'll grow out of it.

Me: But..but...I still feel really bad all the time and I don't want to do things anymore that I used to really like doing and...

But by that time, the doctor would have left the office and I was left feeling just as hopeless and helpless as I had when I entered, which then caused me to question whether or not I even had anxiety...

Working with my current counselor has been a completely different story. Things clicked between us much better between us than with my other counselor. I feel validated, I feel heard. The relationship between a counselor and patient is a very delicate one; I've even heard that finding the right counselor pretty much equates to finding your soul mate. You need someone who understands how you think (or can help you understand how you think), who listens the way you need to be listened to, and who, of course, caters to your needs in a way that serves you. And there's no shame in having to try out a few people. That's probably one of the more frustrating aspects of going to counseling, and I feel extremely lucky to have found someone that works well for me so quickly. Even though it may take some time, it is so, so important to find someone you like...because if you don't like how they work, you won't want to listen to them, and you won't feel better.

My previous counselor gave me a book as we parted ways and in it, there was this whole section dedicated to the power of affirmations. The book recommended picking up some affirmation CDs and listening to them on a daily basis. So I did just that; I listened to them in the morning as I got up. I listened to them in the evening before I went to bed. I did this for weeks. And you know what?

They didn't do a damn thing. I was listening to these same positive affirmations day after day...and I didn't believe them. Believe me, I wanted to, I wanted to believe that I was going to be alright, that I had enough confidence to do the things that I wanted to do...but it was beyond my mental capacity that my anxiety had limited over the years to believe any of that.

And I hate it. I hate that I have anxiety. This past year especially, it's driven me from people and things that I love. I hate the thoughts that run through my head and keep me up at night and distract me when I'm trying to listen to a lecture at school or when I'm driving to work. At first, most days were really, really hard, trying to survive school on top of trying to work on my anxiety. Changes don't happen overnight, and they don't happen the way you want them to, either. At first, you can't really expect too much about how you're going to respond to the work you do with your counselor, especially when you've been experiencing these distressing thought patterns for as long (or longer) as I have. It's an extremely frustrating process. I didn't see big changes in my thoughts and behaviors for a long time...but, if you found someone and something that works for you, you start noticing little changes pretty soon. And all of those little things eventually add up to a few big changes. And soon you start to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Over Christmas, I read Allie Brosh's book Hyperbole and A Half (which you all should go read because it's hilarious), and in it she discusses her own experiences with depression. Toward the end of her story, when she realized she needed to get help for her issues, she conveyed a huge epiphany. She was traversing through this awful wasteland of depression and hopelessness, but she came to realize that she wasn't going to, all of a sudden, arrive at the end of this wasteland and feel better. In order to get better, she had to turn around, and go back through where she had just come from. And that's very much what I had to do. I had to experience these thoughts and sensations that I had been experiencing for months before...but now I had to stick with these thoughts and feelings, not try to push the away, using tools and techniques that my counselor gave me.

Basically, I was re-training my brain. Like an athlete trains for a marathon. We started out slow and kind of jerky, trying to figure out what worked and what didn't. Then we started to see improvement...but then there would be periods of setbacks, where we ha to re-evaluate things...but we still pressed on to where we are now.

And now? While I still have a few weeks of school left...getting to the end of the year seems a lot more possible than it did six months ago. That, in and of itself, is pretty great.

To be continued...