I have been described as shy most of my life. And while we didn't have the terminology back then, I would have been diagnosed with social anxiety disorder. Every day was a battle to just get through it. The teenage years are hard enough to get through when you don't have other issues, but for me it was an unending nightmare.
During junior high, I was somehow able to keep the depression at bay. My saving grace was choir. I have sung all my life, and I'm actually really good at it. In fact, I was pretty much the star in our school choir. It sounds crazy, but I might not be able to carry on a conversation with someone due to the social anxiety, but put me on a stage and ask me to sing, and I came to life. Everyone knew who I was because of my singing. I had something that set me apart from everyone else and made me special. For a girl with such low self esteem, just having something that set me apart made me life bearable. But all that changed when I moved on the high school.
High school is a big adjustment for everyone. You go from being the top dog in your junior high or middle school, to being the mistreated puppy. For me, everything just got multiplied. I got caught in a turf war between two choir directors. Laugh if you must, because it does sound funny! The junior high choir director and the senior high choir director were brothers, and they did not get along with one another. I had been little brother's star pupil and everyone knew it. Big brother wasn't going to do anything to make little brother happy, so I became collateral damage. I went from being the star to being the lowest form of life.
I identified so much with being a singer, and being the best, that when it was taken away from me, I felt like I had nothing. Who I had assumed myself to be was gone. Singing was what had always set me apart, and now I was being told almost daily that I wasn't good enough. This sent me into a downward spiral and I ended up in the very bottom of that deep, dark hole of depression.
Around Thanksgiving that year, I simple couldn't take it anymore. At first, it started out as just needing a break, and so I faked being sick. I had done some acting too, and I was good at it. Everyone really believed that I was sick. I was even able to convince my family doctor that I was extremely ill! I was able to pull this off for about two weeks. I felt like being at home was saving my life. Even though I didn't know what it was at the time, I had been having panic attacks regarding school. Anyone who has had a panic attack knows how scary they are, and for a child of 15, it was terrifying! Once I stopped going to school, the panic attacks stopped, and I knew that I couldn't go back there.....ever!
I had managed to keep myself out of school by playing sick until Christmas vacation, but I knew that I was going to have to go back as soon as the holiday was over. The thought of going back to that awful place was so daunting, and I just knew that I would die if I stepped foot in that building. On the first morning of school, I had the worst panic attack I had ever experienced. It was so bad, that my mother took me to the doctor and they actually sedated me. The longer I stayed out of school the worse it got. Eventually, this turned into agoraphobia. The definition of agoraphobia is an abnormal fear of crowds, public places, or open areas, sometimes accompanied by anxiety attacks.
Many people who develop agoraphobia are so terrified at the thought of these things that they become shut ins or recluses, and this is what happened to me. The thought of leaving even my bedroom was so frightening that I would develop panic attacks just walking out the front door. If we decided to drive across town to visit my grandparents, I could only get in the car if it was in the garage, and then I had to ride with my eyes closed, or lying down in the back seat so that I didn't see anything. I was also becoming suicidal at this point. I was in so much emotional pain, that I just wanted it to stop, and suicide seemed like the only solution to me.
Thank God for my mother! She could see what was going on with me, and soon took me to a therapist. I was furious at being forced to go to a shrink. My thought processes were so irrational at the time, that I didn't think there was anything wrong with me. I didn't need a psychologist! They were doctor's for crazy people! For the first few visits, I sat in the chair with my arms folded across my chest refusing to say anything. But no matter how much I begged not to be sent back, my mom kept taking me. Once they got me on some antidepressants, I slowly began to open up.
One of the things that everyone knew, including me, was that I was too smart not to go back to school. And no matter how much better I was getting, my terror of returning to that high school remained. I tried several times to return to school. I would get up and get ready to go, but the closer the time came to leave, the higher my anxiety got and I would be right back in the middle of a panic attack. It seemed hopeless to me, and some of the suicidal thoughts started to come back. My therapist asked me one day what it would take to get me back into school. I thought about it and I told her that I would have to go to a school where no one knew me. Part of the reason that I was so scared about returning to school was facing my peers and being asked over and over where I had been for all these months. I did not want to have to admit to the truth.
We finally came to a solution for getting me back into school. I was going to boarding school! And even though the thought of living hundreds of miles from home and being away from my family for the first time was scary, it wasn't nearly as frightening as driving across town to go to school. I knew that once I got away from that school and the people who knew me, I could become someone else. I wouldn't be pigeonholed as that shy girl who sings.
We went down for an initial visit, which included academic and psychological testing, and I was accepted as a student. It was decided that I would start during their summer session and then return for the new school year in the fall. This was the first time that I had been truly happy in such a very long time. I was thankful for the chance to start over. Now, going to the school did not miraculously cure me. There were times when I still had occasional panic attacks. And, although I'm not proud of it, there were times when I would call me mother and threaten to kill myself if she didn't come and get me right that minute.
But with a lot of hard work, I did more than survive, I thrived at this school! I actually made friends, I excelled in my class work, and I was once again known as a singer! In fact, I made up my sophomore year of school and was able to graduate on time. I went on to college, and continued to make my way through life. But, I have continued to deal with depression all of my life. I have even gone through such deep depression over the years that I have been suicidal again. Depression is something that I will live with the rest of my life.
The thing I want you to take from this is that there is hope! There is a way out of the deep, dark hole that we often feel ourselves falling into. Depression is a physical illness, the same as high blood pressure or diabetes. It is nothing to be ashamed of. If you are feeling like you are falling into the hole of depression, fight for yourself! You are important, and you deserve to live a life full of joy. Crawling out isn't easy. It takes hard work, and it is very painful at times. Oh, but it is so worth it!
Many people who develop agoraphobia are so terrified at the thought of these things that they become shut ins or recluses, and this is what happened to me. The thought of leaving even my bedroom was so frightening that I would develop panic attacks just walking out the front door. If we decided to drive across town to visit my grandparents, I could only get in the car if it was in the garage, and then I had to ride with my eyes closed, or lying down in the back seat so that I didn't see anything. I was also becoming suicidal at this point. I was in so much emotional pain, that I just wanted it to stop, and suicide seemed like the only solution to me.
Thank God for my mother! She could see what was going on with me, and soon took me to a therapist. I was furious at being forced to go to a shrink. My thought processes were so irrational at the time, that I didn't think there was anything wrong with me. I didn't need a psychologist! They were doctor's for crazy people! For the first few visits, I sat in the chair with my arms folded across my chest refusing to say anything. But no matter how much I begged not to be sent back, my mom kept taking me. Once they got me on some antidepressants, I slowly began to open up.
One of the things that everyone knew, including me, was that I was too smart not to go back to school. And no matter how much better I was getting, my terror of returning to that high school remained. I tried several times to return to school. I would get up and get ready to go, but the closer the time came to leave, the higher my anxiety got and I would be right back in the middle of a panic attack. It seemed hopeless to me, and some of the suicidal thoughts started to come back. My therapist asked me one day what it would take to get me back into school. I thought about it and I told her that I would have to go to a school where no one knew me. Part of the reason that I was so scared about returning to school was facing my peers and being asked over and over where I had been for all these months. I did not want to have to admit to the truth.
We finally came to a solution for getting me back into school. I was going to boarding school! And even though the thought of living hundreds of miles from home and being away from my family for the first time was scary, it wasn't nearly as frightening as driving across town to go to school. I knew that once I got away from that school and the people who knew me, I could become someone else. I wouldn't be pigeonholed as that shy girl who sings.
We went down for an initial visit, which included academic and psychological testing, and I was accepted as a student. It was decided that I would start during their summer session and then return for the new school year in the fall. This was the first time that I had been truly happy in such a very long time. I was thankful for the chance to start over. Now, going to the school did not miraculously cure me. There were times when I still had occasional panic attacks. And, although I'm not proud of it, there were times when I would call me mother and threaten to kill myself if she didn't come and get me right that minute.
But with a lot of hard work, I did more than survive, I thrived at this school! I actually made friends, I excelled in my class work, and I was once again known as a singer! In fact, I made up my sophomore year of school and was able to graduate on time. I went on to college, and continued to make my way through life. But, I have continued to deal with depression all of my life. I have even gone through such deep depression over the years that I have been suicidal again. Depression is something that I will live with the rest of my life.
The thing I want you to take from this is that there is hope! There is a way out of the deep, dark hole that we often feel ourselves falling into. Depression is a physical illness, the same as high blood pressure or diabetes. It is nothing to be ashamed of. If you are feeling like you are falling into the hole of depression, fight for yourself! You are important, and you deserve to live a life full of joy. Crawling out isn't easy. It takes hard work, and it is very painful at times. Oh, but it is so worth it!
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