It Will Get Better
This story was written by Jacob Crowley, based on our contributor, Jessica Bucci. The story and its contents belong to Jessica.
Sometimes I think of my life as a movie. The key difference is movies usually only focus on one big, scary event and my life has had far more than that. From the age of 12, I knew my life was not completely typical. I started experiencing panic attacks and always felt “weird”. My young mind could not process the feeling of anxiety yet. After one of my attacks, my mother took me to my doctor, and I was diagnosed with an anxiety disorder.
I remember not really understanding what that meant at the time. The part that confuses me to this day is the doctor did not prescribe me medication or therapy. When I was younger I had heard about family members who had similar conditions, but the conversation would fade out from there. Mental health was recognized in my home but we all lacked knowledge about how dangerous it could get. I was the oldest of four children in the family, so my parents had never been faced with how to handle anxiety in children. I finally started therapy at the age of 15, which gave me some of the answers I was looking for, but it created a new anxiety for me. I was nervous about what my friends might think of me if they found out. I began to bottle up a lot of emotion and felt abnormal because of my condition.
My mother was always supportive during my mental health journey. I owe much of my progress to her for never treating me like a burden or seeming unreachable. Even though she did not struggle in the way I did, she always knew how to comfort me. However, during this time my father had reached his lowest point. He struggled with alcoholism and depression so my problems may have seemed like another reason to drink. I had my escapes, though. I was a really good softball player and since I played travel, I developed close relationships with people I trusted who did not go to my school. I felt comforted that since I went to a different school they had no true reason to talk about me to their friends. During this time, my worries had seemed to fade away slightly. I felt as if my life was coming back together, and I looked forward to my time after high school.
College went by like a flash of lightning. I graduated on time after 4 years and felt ready to tackle my career. That was the case until I turned 22 years old. That was when I began to experience anxiety over just about everything. My mind left me chained to my bed and I saw death everywhere. This mania going on in my head led me to tell my mother that if she did not take me to the hospital, I was going to kill myself. She quickly realized my state of panic and I checked myself into a mental clinic.
This part of my story is my own experience and should not hinder other young adults or teens from being proactive and getting help if they need it. With that being said, I spent about a month living and receiving treatment at a psychiatric facility. The staff during the day hours were typically easy to get along with and provided some okay activities. However, the night staff seemed to not care so much. I remember seeing patients being mistreated, employees sleeping or distracted. I began to experience paranoia and felt threatened by other patients. I started to see myself as crazy because of the company I was kept with. My suicidal thoughts came back and I felt the urge to take my own life before any of the other patients could. Although my time in treatment was not ideal, I remember after receiving my diagnosis of Bipolar Disorder, a feeling of validation that I really was hurting.
After my stay, I felt ready to take on my world again. My doctors and therapist found a combination of medications that worked well for me. I found myself feeling like a “normal” person and did not dread each day. A strong memory that stuck with me during my stay in the clinic was a yoga instructor who would bring an iced coffee each time she taught the class. I idolized her during my stay because she seemed like the woman I wanted to be when I was out. A confident, self sufficient woman who enjoys her life. Her classes taught me how to appreciate the little things in life. Some people live a life where good news is hard to come by and may need to dig deep. I have always been a huge fan of iced coffee and every time I get to drink one, I am reminded of the woman I strive to be. My best piece of advice to anyone struggling is to know there is a way out. Your condition right now is not a life sentence and you will get better.