Personal Stories

Here Comes the Sun

I was sixteen. Sixteen years old. I woke up right on my sixteenth birthday feeling different. Something definitely different. It wasn’t good. It was bad. It was fear. It was pain. I woke up on my sixteenth birthday feeling the most horrible pain you can ever imagine. And I had no control over it now.

My sister came over for my birthday for dinner and cake. I can see the look in her eyes of worry. I was acting different than my usual self. And that was it. I couldn’t control the way I was acting. It was how I felt. I felt like I woke up into a nightmare and I was completely stuck. I tried my hardest to wake up, but I couldn’t. It’s the most horrible feeling when you can’t wake up from a nightmare.

My sister and my mom had a birthday surprise weekend for me in San Diego. By then, my mind was somewhere else. I was in my own world. Like my mind was in some other world. Like my mind was Alice stuck in Wonderland. It’s not that I didn’t want to come back from Wonderland. My mind would not let me. We arrived in San Diego for a concert and more family was coming to celebrate. I remember not wanting my family or anybody to see me. I was ashamed and embarrassed of how I was acting. I didn’t want to be judged for not acting like myself. But they arrived anyways. We went to the concert and I couldn’t describe much from the concert. It was a blur. A complete blur. But I do remember my sister and mom crying at the end of the concert for whatever reason. I know they were trying their hardest for me to have a good time, but my mind wasn’t letting me.

It had gotten worse. My mom found a phone at the concert and she took it with her. I thought that she had stolen it and I was terrified that we would get in trouble by the authorities. The whole rest of the visit in San Diego, I thought that the cops or some sort of authorities were going to arrest us for stealing the phone. I was terrified. The whole two hour car ride home, I thought people were following us. That is when my paranoid thoughts came in and I couldn’t escape them. Every single shadow, sound, voice, light, every single thing terrified me. My mind got the best of me and I was in the dark further than I could have ever imagined I would let myself, but I was there. Stuck in a dark deep staircase. I didn’t talk for a long period of time either. I couldn’t find my voice in all of this. My mind wouldn’t let my mouth move.

I went to my doctor and they referred me to a therapist’s office. Every Wednesday I would go see a therapist and we would talk. I would tell her that people were watching me because I truly believed that people were and that people could read my thoughts. Soon after, she referred me to a psychiatrist. Soon after, I felt helpless. She couldn’t even help me. No one could. I felt alone, I was in so much pain, I was hearing things and I didn’t know why.

My first visit to the psychiatrist was different. She asked me if I was having suicidal thoughts and I said yes. She asked if I was hearing voices and I said yes. The voices were insulting and terrifying. They would say negative thoughts to me and tear me down. As if I wasn’t torn apart already. She prescribed me medications and that first week I took them. They turned me into a different person that weekend. I turned more violent, the voices were running like wild fire, and I felt like I was underwater. I immediately got off the meds. She prescribed me another medication. And this time there were no bad side effects.

My mom would sing songs to me every day. She would sing the Beatles songs and I would just listen. I used to love singing. I used to love doing a lot of things, but I hadn’t for so long. There was no desire or life in me. There was nothing, but fear and paranoia and despair. She started singing “Here Comes the Sun” I looked at her and felt something in myself. A sudden hope when she sang that song to me. I don’t know if it was the lyrics or my mother’s voice, but I started singing back to her. After a long time of not responding to anything, I sang back to my mom. And in that instant I didn’t feel fear, I felt hope.

I continued to see my psychiatrist for sessions and after a few months behind in school, I finally started home schooling. I couldn’t quite go back to regular school because it was overwhelming for me to be around crowds. I started going back slowly to things I loved to do which was dancing. Everything wasn’t quite back into place, but I felt things changing. I felt myself changing. The voices in my head were becoming less frequent. My dose in medication went down, because my doctor saw a change in me. Eventually I went back to my regular school with my friends. But I still struggled getting back to my old self. I rebelled and I was full of anxiety and anger. I didn’t know where to go from there.

From rebelling, I got behind in school and my anxiety was up my senior year. I had to go back to independent study to finish school. It was my last semester in high school and boy did I surprise myself. I graduated on time with my class in 2013. That felt like a big triumph to me. Just a year or so ago I didn’t even think I would make it to my next birthday, but there I was getting my high school diploma and I got off my medications. It felt amazing! It felt right.
 

After my graduation, adulthood was on the horizon. There was stress of where to go from there. Should I get a job, college? I didn’t know. And that got me overwhelmed and my anxiety kicked in. What I realized is that I am going to always have to learn how to live with my anxiety. And no it’s not the end of the world. It’s just something that will help me build my strength like it already has. If I can go through depressive psychosis and graduate high school, then I can handle anything. I always tell myself this. I didn’t expect my 16 year old self having to go through it. But I wouldn’t change anything. The struggles I go through shape me into the person I am and I am so excited and thrilled to see where life takes me.

I am currently enrolled in community college, pursuing a degree in social work. I would love to become a psychiatric social worker and help adolescents like myself to make it easier to cope with a mental condition.

You, yes you! You are capable of anything you put your mind to. I should know. My mind went for a wild ride for a little bit. But if you really focus on something you truly want for yourself, it can be done. I am living proof. Hope is out there and you are never alone.

 


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