A statement from a depression, anxiety and OCD survivor

I was 10 years old when I was diagnosed with depression. I was a child and, as one, I couldn't understand what exactly was happening to me. After the loss of two members of my family, grief manifested in me in a very weird way. Now I understand I was somatizing. I was immensely tired all the time, day after day and my little body hurt all the time. During the summer, I wouldn't leave my house.

A a kid, I was supposed to have fun all the time and I got to a point where I actually believed I was broken, that I wasn't like the rest of my friends. Symptoms never really disappeared, they just changed and that's when, as a teenager, I was diagnosed with generalised anxiety disorder. I wasn't somatizing as much anymore, as I began to be more conscious about my emotions. But mental symptoms, which were also unknown, were way more terrifying than physical ones.

At age 15, a few months after starting to go to therapy regularly due to suicidal thoughts caused by the desperation that anxiety brought to my life, I was diagnosed with an obsessive compulsive disorder. I was at my worst. I could not leave my bed. The fear of going out was slowly killing me and, although I'm very lucky to have a supportive family that helped me through it, now I know that, if it weren't for myself, I would not be here today.

I started getting medication. I had to skip a year from school and, at the time, I was extremely scared by this decision, but now I know it's the best decision I've ever made, since I was able to focus on myself and my well-being for a while. I slowly got the courage and the will to live again. I began to go to all my therapy sessions and I stared a new sport that now I know I owe my life to. I made new friends on the ice rink and restored old relationships that I thought to be forever lost. I started going outside more, enjoying music again, reading as I used to when I was a kid and, most importantly, I saw the possibility of a future ahead of me. A year later, I resumed school.

It has not always been easy but I'm on my third year of college now and I know that some decisions and sacrifices I made in the past that terrified me were worth it. I'm still recovering, since you never stop recovering from any mental illness, but I have learnt to accept my disorders. Now I understand that, the best way to make it through, is by letting myself feel the pain. It's okay not to be okay. It is not always flowers and rainbows. Yes, I run on meds and therapy to survive, but I also run on hobbies, loved ones and purposes, as everyone else. And that's fine.