Depersonalisation – by Samantha

I spent weeks, if not months, waiting to die. There is no other way I could put it. I was positive that I was going to die of something. The fear, paranoia and depression had reached a point where I could not imagine making it through the following days. Sleeping was my favourite thing in the world. It meant I could actually rest because even though I spent most of my time in bed I was always alert, always wondering what any phantom pain was, always researching, waiting for hallucinations, voices, anything that would confirm to me that I was actually crazy.

I’d always been quite an anxious person and managed to keep it in check most of the time but I noticed it slowly escalating as my life began to change over the period of a few months last year. I hate change and I began to detach.

I ended up suffering with something called depersonalisation, a condition which makes the world around you feel dream like, I’d have conversations with people and begin to wonder whether it was actually happening and the fear that I was going insane was horrendous. I was pretty much waiting for the voices to start. Only when I put my symptoms into the internet did I actually get some relief from the hypochondriacs need to research every symptom. I wasn’t alone, at all. There was a whole community of people out there with the same feelings as me, going through the same torment and everyone was saying the same things “you are not insane” and “you are not going to die”.

Since then, my anxiety had taken on many forms, through panic attacks, severe hypochondria, agoraphobia, this beast (and I can only describe it as that) has tried to get at me from all angles. The depersonalisation is still there but every so often I get a glimpse of the real world and I can’t wait for the fog to clear completely. At the moment, I’m starting to pull through and fight back. I hate it too much to continue this way for much longer so I’m fighting.

People on the outside of this box need to remember that there is so much more to mental health issues than you are told by anyone suffering it. It’s not just a “I don’t want to go outside” or “I don’t want to eat that” and we’re not trying to be difficult. It’s terrifying, really, truly terrifying. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone and I’m so glad it’s being brought to the attention of people and not as a stigma

My Struggle with Anxiety – by Adam

My name is Adam. I am 21 years old, and I am currently studying computer science at the University of Memphis. Honestly, I’m surprised I’ve made it this far.

Throughout my life, I have had to deal with intense anxiety especially when having to deal with people. Sometimes it gets to the point that I make up excuses to avoid certain social situations. I even have trouble eating in public and sometimes have to force myself to eat even when not in public. Sometimes, I don’t eat at all causing me to be underweight.

None of this was made better by the fact that, in middle school, I was one of the shortest people in the school and was made fun of constantly for it. I think there was maybe one person who was shorter. This made me extremely insecure about my height (or lack thereof). I felt weak and defenseless. I felt inadequate because I didn’t grow as much as other students. Thankfully, I’ve gotten more at peace with my height recently, but I still feel small when around my friends. Most of them are 6 feet or over and I’m only 5’4”.

Because of my anxiety, I always feel less than everyone else around me. I see them in groups talking and looking so happy, and I sit there was wish I could be that happy. These constant thoughts of inadequacy have led me to suicidal thoughts several times in my life. Sometimes I feel like I’m beyond help and feel that death is the only way to go. My rational side, however, is calling me an idiot for thinking something like that and so far, it’s winning the struggle.

I feel like it’s getting better, however, I still struggle with it sometimes. I almost skipped the first day of classes because I knew that at least some of the professors would make us introduce ourselves to the class, and I hate doing that. Even in the previous semester, meeting with my advisor was hard. I could barely email her to set up an appointment because I was afraid of saying the wrong thing. Even when I set it up, I nearly threw up on the day I was supposed to meet with her just thinking about it.

It doesn’t help much that I live in Mississippi. Most people around me are devoutly religious and some even believe that mental illness is a sign of demon possession. The fact that I’m an atheist probably doesn’t help them see that they’re wrong. Some likely believe that my atheism is the cause of my anxiety.

My parents haven’t been much help either. They refuse to believe that there’s a problem. Anytime I try and talk to them, they just blow it off and tell me to “snap out of it” as if I can just stop being nervous at will. Honestly, I don’t think they really listen to me.

I just hope to keep fighting and maybe one day to get over this completely. I know I have at least some support.