Anxiety, Depression, and my hidden E.D.

Like most students in college, I know what pressure is: managing school, research, writing essays, midterms, actually going to class. Outside pressures also involved managing my personal relationships, family life, work, finances, and being a part of the community. This is seen in the eyes of those closest to you as "MATURING" and "GROWING UP". Despite the fact that I felt sooo mature knowing that I could manage all these other distractions was great, but my body soon started to suffer.

I had always prided myself in being the best at everything: the best in school, better than my sister, better than my mom and everyone else in my family. I was a dedicated worker, the typical workaholic that my boss was "privileged" to have. I managed to pay four credit cards, insurance, and a car payment every month by the SKIN of my teeth, and hey, I even managed to find time to party.

I developed an irregular sleeping pattern over a year ago. I was absolutely unable to sleep through the night. It was not uncommon for me to wake up with nightmares and then be unable to sleep thereafter. I simply just disregarded my sleep and dealt with the minuscule 4 hours I generally received each night.

My lack of sleep however, was not as kind to me. I developed relentless headaches that lasted for days, irritability that would last hours, and then severe bouts of sadness. I began to have a HUGE complex about my weight, having recurring thoughts about how ugly, fat, and disgusting my body was. My relationship drama made it easier to rationalize as well. I felt that if I could make myself "sexy" again, I could make my boyfriend want me...so I wouldn't have to want him.

So, it started. I counted calories like crazy only allowing myself 600 calories maximum each day. I compulsively exercised everyday spending normally 4 hours at the gym doing cardio, weight lifting, and finding time to do extra classes if there were instructors available. I wore rubber bands around my wrist so that I could slap them against my wrist when I had thoughts of hunger (which worked effectively) but I was so sad that I didn't get down to my desired weight that I "abandoned" my eating habits...or so I thought.

My problems only escalated further. Midterm week was so difficult for me that I found myself coming in late to work, ditching classes so I could catch some "zzz's", I couldn't focus on anything for more than 10 minutes, prolonged headaches, loss of appetite, severe muscle tension and the development of a tick that caused a lot of stares to be made at work. I found myself crying for no reason at all. Thinking constantly about why I even bothered to try anything anymore, I was a loser, a failure, and I couldn't do anything right.

I thought that it was only temporary...all these things. So I was just dealing with it. But it soon affected my mood more severely to where I would snap at anything anyone said. My sister grew more and more worried that I was "going crazy"; my boyfriend called me "psycho" and I soon began to believe it. I dived into an even deeper state of depression that made cry for hours, sit in my room alone, hate my life, hate my dog, hate the way I looked...that I put a knife to wrist. Luckily, my sister came in and stopped me and let me just cry on her lap. Even though she didn't understand, she knew that her pillar of strength, her older sister was failing and needed some support.

At her request, I called the counseling center on campus and set up an appointment to see anyone before I hurt myself even more. I am so thankful that I did. My therapy has been a godsend since. It has taught me ways to focus on my emotions and think about what triggers them (this helps me cope with my depression). He has taught me relaxation techniques that help alleviate some stress so that I do not go into an anxiety spin and get so depressed as a result at my "failure". We have begun speaking about my eating history which was a giant red flag. He believes that I am still struggling with it, since I have gone vegetarian recently, still love the gym, and count calories. He believes that it may be a sign of a less severe form. So, I have to get a physical so that I can understand what it is doing to me physiologically.

It's not easy dealing with all the stresses that college and life place upon you. There are so many options available to us all. Although I may not be fully out of the proverbial woods, I definitely realize now, that I need help too. That I can't be the one who is trying to please everyone all the time. That my agenda is important too. There are resources available to us. You are not alone in your struggle. We all can help each other along the road to recovery.

Thank you for allowing me to share my story and steps to recovery with the rest of the campus.