Last year my life changed drastically. I had been diagnosed with anxiety and depression. My family thought it was average teen crankiness because I told them that I wasn't getting much sleep. It had been much worse than lack of sleep, my mind was racing with thoughts of self-harm. I thought at one time I had hit rock bottom and was going to kill myself. After a long year of recovering I can honestly say that I'm better off than I was a year ago. My anxiety nor depression will continue control my life. I believe in myself and think there is nothing more important you can do than believe in yourself. In the beginning of my depression there was a zombie-like state I entered. A lot of the beginning is a blur to me, like a puzzle with missing pieces. I don't remember much but I do remember the first time my mother took me …show more content…
There are some days when I can't not get out of bed, even to take care of myself. “ I'm teary-eyed and I'm holding my legs so close to my chest I feel like I can't breathe. She's listening to me intently, I'm telling her things I hadn't even told my friends until I feel like I have nothing left. “After what you and your mother have told me, I think it would be appropriate to say you may have generalized anxiety disorder and major depressive disorder.” The next thing I can remember is the ride home, I spend most of it watching the trees and think about how the leaves are beginning to change. Over the next few months I struggled with accepting my diagnosis. I didn't like to think of myself as someone with depression. Refusing to to face my problems left me with nothing to gain and continuing in a downward spiral. Piece by piece I started falling apart, I began losing my appetite and started to isolate myself. Some days I felt like I was watching a movie, I had my very own antagonist, except it wasn't a villain trying to take over the world, it was me. The villain was in my head, it was apart of