Past Versions of Myself

I just watched a TikTok that John Green made about the movie adaptation of his book Turtles All The Way Down (which I am very excited for), which is about a teenage girl who has OCD. Turtles was one of the first, if not the first, books I read where the story focused a lot on mental illness. I had just been diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder, and that book was very helpful for me to learn how my brain works and what it meant for who I was. I highly recommend it.

In the TikTok, John says that he is grateful to the past versions of himself who made it through the difficult times with his OCD, and that made me think about my past selves.

I've talked before on here about how my anxiety went undiagnosed until I was sixteen years old, and how before that I was showing severe symptoms of GAD, but no one noticed. Now, I didn't understand what was happening at the time, but I kept going.

When I was finally diagnosed, things started to make sense. My triggers, how I could not just avoid them but also learn to live with them, and the fact that I wasn't alone.

That sentence still makes me a little emotional. I am not alone.

After I finished a year of therapy, I felt great. I started journaling, I was following through on the tactics my therapist and I talked about to combat my anxious thought patterns, it was great. I was not cured, not by any means, but I was somewhat confident in my ability to keep going.

Then 2020 happened. COVID, lockdowns, and higher levels of anxiety than I had ever remembered feeling. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't watch the news, and I couldn't drive or even sit in a car without feeling like the world was crashing down around me. I finally decided to start looking for a therapist. When I found one, she was stumped about my driving anxiety. She gave me coping strategies, I tried them, they didn't work. The cycle continued. Eventually she referred me to a doctor that could prescribe me medication.

Medication isn't for everyone, but let me tell you: it worked wonders for me.

I'm coming up on two years since I started my meds, two years since my last panic attack, and two years with my therapist.

When I was on the phone with her this week, she asked me how driving to school was. I told her that it was fine, and that I was starting to enjoy driving again. She sounded exactly as thrilled as I feel.

On my way home from class today I had to sit through a particular intersection in town that for some reason always triggers my fight or flight. I sat through an entire red light cycle, never once looking for a way to get out and take a longer way home to avoid it like I would have a year ago. When you struggle with mental illness, things that most people wouldn't think are a big deal suddenly become huge. I’m able to drive to and from my college, about forty-five minutes away, with minimal anxiety. I haven't had to search for emergency places to stop and calm down. I haven't had the intrusive thoughts of how I might hurt myself or someone else by swerving off the road due to panic.

The last two years have been some of the hardest of my life, and that is likely true for you, too. This week, I want you to stop and think about the past versions of yourself who got you to this moment in time. Even if you're having a hard time, think about the times you made it through. It sucks, and it seems like it's never going to get better, but it will. I promise you it will.

Stay safe and take care of yourself

–Abbie