At the time of writing this, I am 22 years old, and I live with anxiety and depression.
When it all started
At the age of 19 I moved from Italy to London by myself, to begin my studies at University.
I went through three months of crying myself to sleep every night. I missed my family, I missed my friends, I missed the country where I grew up. And I was alone.
Although I made a few friends at work and a couple of friends at University, I never really had someone I felt I could open up to and share my thoughts with, without the fear of been laughed at or ridiculed.
During my studies, I always had this thought in my head: “I am not good enough, everyone else is doing better than me, and no matter how much effort I put into my studies, I will never reach the standard of grades my peers have.”
When discussing courseworks and projects, I was always the one who spoke less, afraid I would say something wrong or different than what would be expected of a girl like me.
This resulted in me gradually detaching myself from these few friends I had, until I completely stopped hanging out with them. I preferred staying home alone.
There were many days when I did not have the motivation to get out of my bed to go anywhere.
I started missing lectures, and I didn’t care about catching up on what I missed.
I was living in a shared house, and on the days I would confine myself to staying home, I never left my bedroom unless I was sure no one else was in. I would only head to the kitchen to cook when I couldn’t hear any footsteps in the common area, or when I’d hear the front door shut.
One of the difficulties I faced during those three years of University life, was working full-time while studying full-time. I know, it doesn’t make much sense, but that was my reality. Being an European student in the UK for such a short period, I was not entitled to a maintenance grant, so I was literally working for a living, in order to pay for rent, food and transport.
Those were the most difficult years of my life.
I would go to lectures in the morning, and sometimes leave early to get to work on time. Or I would not go to lectures at all, because I needed to work extra hours to support myself. This really affected me when I had to write my dissertation; I didn’t have much time to research my topic but I did my best and it resulted with me receiving a very poor grade.
To sum it all up, the University years were supposed to be the best of my life, where I would make friendships that would last a lifetime. But that didn’t happen for me. I couldn’t join any sports groups or clubs and societies. I didn’t hang out with any of my peers in our spare time. I was more concerned about money and my financial situation rather than studying to achieve good grades.
And on top of all that, a complicated and tense situation arose between me and my parents. They were always calling me on the phone, sometimes five to eight times a day, pressuring me to do things their way.
I was tired of everything, and I couldn’t sleep at night – there were times when I could be up for over 48 hours. I was in desperate need of sleeping pills, but was too ashamed to see a doctor and ask for something like that, considering my young age. Sleep deprivation resulted with my being easily irritated and upset at every little thing that didn’t go my way during the day.
I began thinking I was an annoying human being, not living, but simply existing in this world.
When I realised there was a problem
At some point in time, whenever I scrolled through my Instagram or Facebook feed, there would always be at least two or three posts about depression, anxiety, or mental health in general.
I started reading these: there were a few articles written by people who were struggling with mental health, or who had conquered anxiety and depression, or who were giving advice on how to deal with these issues.
So I did my own research into what exactly is depression and what is anxiety. Looking at the symptoms, I realised that I had unknowingly been suffering from both for the past several years.
A few of my symptoms were irritability, panic attacks, constant and excessive worry, sleep disturbance, lack of interest in things I used to be passionate about, decreased appetite, and worst of all, being always in a bad mood and feeling worthless.
I wasn’t sure what to do with this information, but that realisation made my condition much worse. I was still too embarrassed and ashamed to see a doctor and discuss the matter, so I didn’t do anything.
It’s not a sign of weakness
Things started getting better when I accepted the fact that I had a problem with my mental health. This time, I decided to start researching advice on how to deal with anxiety and depression.
I learned about celebrities and public figures who are still dealing with these problems.
After continuously watching and re-watching motivational speaking videos and reading multiple articles on the topic of mental health, I slowly began to accept that anxiety and depression are not a sign of weakness. I’ll say that again:
Anxiety, depression, or any mental health problems are not a sign of weakness.
What helps me
I have a list of things that put me in a good mood, and I always do something from that list when I am not feeling like myself.
On top of my list is writing and journaling. When I’m in a depressed mood I write down how I feel, or whatever is going on in my mind. It helps to let out the frustration without hurting myself or anyone around me. At the moment, I am writing my first novel, so working on that is also a great distraction from my problems.
Another thing I do when I am in a terrible mood and find myself crying for no reason whatsoever, is to stop and breathe. I take deep breaths, as many as I need, until I calm down. Usually, after that I close my eyes and sometimes even fall asleep, which is great because I don’t fall asleep so easily.
My partner is also such a great support; whenever I go through such moments, he knows when it’s okay to talk to me and when I just need some silence and a hug.
Why I’m sharing my story
When Gillian was looking for writers to write a guest post on her blog, I asked her what topics we can write about. She said “anything, as long as it’s not offensive.”
I don’t believe mental health is an offensive topic, but many people may find it “disturbing.” Mental health is still a bit of a taboo topic to talk about.
But I decided to write about it, because it’s too important to not talk about.
If you’re reading this and suffer from mental health issues, I want you – no, I need you to know that you are not alone, and you are not weak. It takes a lot of strength to struggle with these problems.
My advice to you is to seek help, it doesn’t have to be from a doctor necessarily. It could be from a friend, family member, partner, or someone you look up to and know you can trust.
Do not suffer in silence.
If you enjoyed this piece, please follow Elira Barnes on Twitter @authorelirab.