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I sit in the waiting room, my thoughts racing; my sweaty hands lie in my lap. The therapist calls my name twice because I am so zoned out. "Adrienna?!" she calls as her eyes scour the room. "Oh, that's me," I say while jumping up frantically. The walk to the room is even more nerve-wracking than the wait. At that time, questions of concern flooded my mind. "What will she ask me?" "What will she say of my condition?" As I took my place in the room, I was visibly nervous. My body was very fidgety and words barely escaped as I answered her questions; my voice crackled with nervousness. After a thirty minute initial evaluation, I left the health clinic with a diagnosis of severe anxiety and chronic depression.
The first time I realized I had a problem was in middle school. During that time in my life, I was probably the loudest and most energetic person in the room. It was always my objective to keep people laughing. But, then in English class, we were assigned a project where we needed to present for five minutes. Though I was a loud person, I was definitely shy but I never really panicked when it was time to perform. After all, I had at that time already performed enough for my butterflies to leave shortly after arriving. But not this time; "Adrienna, it's your turn!" the teacher yells from behind a sheet of paper. I get up dramatically. My peers were already laughing in advance because they expected me to be funny as usual. When I took my position at the front of the room my smile immediately disappeared. My mouth suddenly grew dry; my words stumbled out with confusion. I was speaking but no words could be recognized. I stared at the paper trying to decipher my handwritten but my mind was blank. My hesitation drew some speculation and laughter. My heart suddenly began thundering through my chest, I'm sure the class was able to hear it. My palms grew sweaty and my throat full of knots. A surge of adrenaline circulated my body and I was struggling to breathe. This was my first panic attack. At the end of my presentation, people were laughing because they thought I was playing as usual but it bothered me because I knew I was being serious. Though at the time, I would ignore these symptoms.
As high school began, my condition took a turn for the worst. I was sluggish, mute, and was battling with insomnia. I figured in the beginning that I had a hard time sleeping because from the age of eight, I had been working at my parents restaurant every day after school till late hours, I concluded that maybe my body was accustom to not getting much sleep. But then, I realized that I had a hard time speaking, concentrating, and staying motivated. My four years of high school would be disastrous. My grades weren't the best because I was fatigued, disconnected, and constantly being taken out of school to help my parents out with their restaurant and my baby sister who had just been born. I really didn't have much of a life outside of school and the restaurant and it had always been that way. My parents were very strict so I was confined to my home/the restaurant. It was also in high school where I realized I became very avoidant. I started to avoid situations where I would panic or feel anxious. I did not socialize as much as I used to and I tried to avoid presentations and at one point, school in general. My last two years of high school would mostly be spent at home and work/internship. I felt anxious at school so I would skip at times but I always made sure to keep my grades up. Though I have had severe test taking anxiety since ninth grade, I was on the honor roll, in the National Honor's Society, and I graduated number 14 out of a class of 218 with a 3.75 GPA. I was also recognized for my involvement in music, basketball, and architecture/ engineering. I was given a paid and non-paid internship at my school as an assistant technician; while also working and volunteering.
When I started college, I did not know what to do. I had never been alone and away from family before. I was worrying even more and generally had sleepless nights or overslept due to lack of energy; thus missing some classes. In class I was unfocused. I would be listening to the professor but my mind would be on something else. My thoughts were preoccupied with making my parents proud. I had severe test taking anxiety where I got so caught up in failing that I did not perform as well as I was capable of. As I did in high school, I would study hours into the night in attempts to make sure I knew the information. But it didn't matter how long I studied, my mind would go blank or I would spend too much time confirming my answers were right therefore not finishing; as soon as I was given a test or quiz I would watch my grades diminish point by point. This would increase my depression because I was fully aware I knew the information but it was a task trying to conjure it up during an exam; my averages for the other percentages of my grades like written assignments, homework, group work, etc. were all high grades. I was completely capable of completing any work I was given. It was then that I realized that I needed to seek help because my condition was keeping me from completing my real goals. Though VERY hesitant/nervous at first, in my first week of college I took the first steps to a better future. I always kind of knew I was suffering from these disorders since high school; I was scared to get help because I would have to tell my parents first and they would judge me. Still even to this day, they are oblivious to my conditions. They just wouldn't understand my pain. Their lack of affection and support has created a disconnected relationship. My parents and I don't speak much about anything, some days we don't speak at all. But, I still desire to make them proud.
After my diagnosis, I have been attending therapy once a week for six months thus far. I was also recommended for medication so I have been medicating. From my therapy, I realized that I had anxiety and depression from the emotional/verbal abuse I endure on a regular basis from my parents. My life has always been sheltered, controlled, and judged. These definitely had lasting effects. But, in the wake of the second semester while still attending therapy and medicating, though my condition is only slowly improving, my grades have drastically improved. Though my parents judge my decisions and make me feel like there are things I can't do, I am determined to take the necessary steps to success and prove them wrong.
I sit in the waiting room, my thoughts racing; my sweaty hands lie in my lap. The therapist calls my name twice because I am so zoned out. "Adrienna?!" she calls as her eyes scour the room. "Oh, that's me," I say while jumping up frantically. The walk to the room is even more nerve-wracking than the wait. At that time, questions of concern flooded my mind. "What will she ask me?" "What will she say of my condition?" As I took my place in the room, I was visibly nervous. My body was very fidgety and words barely escaped as I answered her questions; my voice crackled with nervousness. After a thirty minute initial evaluation, I left the health clinic with a diagnosis of severe anxiety and chronic depression.
The first time I realized I had a problem was in middle school. During that time in my life, I was probably the loudest and most energetic person in the room. It was always my objective to keep people laughing. But, then in English class, we were assigned a project where we needed to present for five minutes. Though I was a loud person, I was definitely shy but I never really panicked when it was time to perform. After all, I had at that time already performed enough for my butterflies to leave shortly after arriving. But not this time; "Adrienna, it's your turn!" the teacher yells from behind a sheet of paper. I get up dramatically. My peers were already laughing in advance because they expected me to be funny as usual. When I took my position at the front of the room my smile immediately disappeared. My mouth suddenly grew dry; my words stumbled out with confusion. I was speaking but no words could be recognized. I stared at the paper trying to decipher my handwritten but my mind was blank. My hesitation drew some speculation and laughter. My heart suddenly began thundering through my chest, I'm sure the class was able to hear it. My palms grew sweaty and my throat full of knots. A surge of adrenaline circulated my body and I was struggling to breathe. This was my first panic attack. At the end of my presentation, people were laughing because they thought I was playing as usual but it bothered me because I knew I was being serious. Though at the time, I would ignore these symptoms.
As high school began, my condition took a turn for the worst. I was sluggish, mute, and was battling with insomnia. I figured in the beginning that I had a hard time sleeping because from the age of eight, I had been working at my parents restaurant every day after school till late hours, I concluded that maybe my body was accustom to not getting much sleep. But then, I realized that I had a hard time speaking, concentrating, and staying motivated. My four years of high school would be disastrous. My grades weren't the best because I was fatigued, disconnected, and constantly being taken out of school to help my parents out with their restaurant and my baby sister who had just been born. I really didn't have much of a life outside of school and the restaurant and it had always been that way. My parents were very strict so I was confined to my home/the restaurant. It was also in high school where I realized I became very avoidant. I started to avoid situations where I would panic or feel anxious. I did not socialize as much as I used to and I tried to avoid presentations and at one point, school in general. My last two years of high school would mostly be spent at home and work/internship. I felt anxious at school so I would skip at times but I always made sure to keep my grades up. Though I have had severe test taking anxiety since ninth grade, I was on the honor roll, in the National Honor's Society, and I graduated number 14 out of a class of 218 with a 3.75 GPA. I was also recognized for my involvement in music, basketball, and architecture/ engineering. I was given a paid and non-paid internship at my school as an assistant technician; while also working and volunteering.
When I started college, I did not know what to do. I had never been alone and away from family before. I was worrying even more and generally had sleepless nights or overslept due to lack of energy; thus missing some classes. In class I was unfocused. I would be listening to the professor but my mind would be on something else. My thoughts were preoccupied with making my parents proud. I had severe test taking anxiety where I got so caught up in failing that I did not perform as well as I was capable of. As I did in high school, I would study hours into the night in attempts to make sure I knew the information. But it didn't matter how long I studied, my mind would go blank or I would spend too much time confirming my answers were right therefore not finishing; as soon as I was given a test or quiz I would watch my grades diminish point by point. This would increase my depression because I was fully aware I knew the information but it was a task trying to conjure it up during an exam; my averages for the other percentages of my grades like written assignments, homework, group work, etc. were all high grades. I was completely capable of completing any work I was given. It was then that I realized that I needed to seek help because my condition was keeping me from completing my real goals. Though VERY hesitant/nervous at first, in my first week of college I took the first steps to a better future. I always kind of knew I was suffering from these disorders since high school; I was scared to get help because I would have to tell my parents first and they would judge me. Still even to this day, they are oblivious to my conditions. They just wouldn't understand my pain. Their lack of affection and support has created a disconnected relationship. My parents and I don't speak much about anything, some days we don't speak at all. But, I still desire to make them proud.
After my diagnosis, I have been attending therapy once a week for six months thus far. I was also recommended for medication so I have been medicating. From my therapy, I realized that I had anxiety and depression from the emotional/verbal abuse I endure on a regular basis from my parents. My life has always been sheltered, controlled, and judged. These definitely had lasting effects. But, in the wake of the second semester while still attending therapy and medicating, though my condition is only slowly improving, my grades have drastically improved. Though my parents judge my decisions and make me feel like there are things I can't do, I am determined to take the necessary steps to success and prove them wrong.
