Gabrielle K.

Photography by Gabriele Barrocas

If you’re reading this, there is nothing wrong with you.

My entire life I had always thought something was wrong with me. I thought my brain was wired differently from everyone else’s and I was completely alone in the feelings I felt. As I grew older, I realized this was the farthest thing from the truth.

I have struggled with anxiety for as long as I can remember. I can still picture being in the first grade eating a turkey and cheese sandwich and having to go to the nurse because I suddenly felt off. I thought it had to do with what I was eating, but in reality, it was just my anxiety putting my brain into fight or flight mode even when there was no present danger in front of me.

I struggled with intense phobias, panic attacks that physically made me feel like I was going to die, and lived entirely inside of my head throughout the rest of elementary and middle school. I was out of school for days at a time and went weeks without eating. I cycled through therapist after therapist but could not find one that I clicked with or made me feel remotely better. For the longest time, I felt completely and utterly alone.

It wasn’t until my sophomore year of high school that I finally received a diagnosis: generalized anxiety disorder. Since I was seven years old eating my turkey and cheese sandwich experiencing anxiety for the very first time, I had sworn something was exclusively wrong with me. I thought I was the only one who could possibly have the thoughts and feelings that I did. I had no idea that there was an entire world of people out there living my exact same life. It changed my world.

Finding a diagnosis made me feel less alone in my struggles, but it didn’t make them go away the way I thought it would. During my freshman year of college, I hit a low point in my mental health struggle. A point that made me want to end my struggling completely. I am forever appreciative of the support from the people in my life to ensure that did not happen.

It took reaching my breaking point for me to recognize that medication was the right choice for me. I used to see it as a last resort, a solution to turn to when all else failed. However, I learned that this was a common misconception. Medication is simply another important tool in my toolkit, alongside therapy and mindfulness. I’m truly thankful for the positive impact it has had on my life.

Today, I find strength in connecting with friends and family, I have a therapist who truly supports me, and I continue to take my medication. Mentally, I feel better than I ever have before. Nevertheless, recovery isn’t linear. I still experience bad days, panic attacks, and challenges with disordered eating. However, these battles have become more manageable over time.

So, if you're reading this, know that there is absolutely nothing wrong with you, and there never has been. You are not alone; your thoughts have been shared by other minds. You are the only one who has to live with yourself every day - you deserve peace inside your own head.

Gabrielle K., Vanderbilt University

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