Greta C.

Photograph from USC

If you're reading this, your puzzle piece fits.

Though for a long time, I didn’t believe it, I was diagnosed with severe OCD when I was 10 years old, as well as severe depression and PTSD when I was 18. How do you explain to a 10 year old she has to take the maximum dose of Lexapro because there’s a chemical imbalance in her brain? A 10 year old barely knows what puberty is yet. When I met with a psychiatrist for the first time, she told me I needed to take medicine for a severe case of OCD. I looked at my mom and yelled, “I’m not sick! Kids take medicine when they are sick!” I didn’t mind being different than some of the other kids my age. I thought a four hour night routine and taking an hour just to perfect my ballet hairstyle was just a quirk of mine. I thought basing my day off of a strict routine, wanting to be perfect at everything, and drawing words in the air when I was stressed or nervous was just genetic.

In high school, the OCD was present but mostly anxiety disorder persisted. A huge part of my psychological disorder at the time stemmed from feeling like I didn’t fit in with any crowd. I thought I had to be a certain person or somehow change the chemical makeup in my brain to really fit in, especially as a teenager who didn’t want to smoke, drink, date, or party. I had a hard time making friends and keeping friends all throughout high school. I ate lunch alone on campus a lot of the time. People really didn’t invite me places. Most of my Saturday nights were spent watching movies with my parents or at dance rehearsals. For a long time, I truly didn’t think anyone would miss me or notice if I left this earth. I felt isolated. I began to blame the chemical makeup of my brain for causing me to miss out on typical teenage milestones. I was in this constant loop of self loathing because I felt everyone else around me loathed me. 

It wasn’t until I was 20 years old that I truly liked myself enough and was healed enough to go to college. It was at this moment I found people who were like me. Those who celebrated the way my brain took up space and gave me room to continue to heal from my past traumas. It was at college that I realized I wasn’t a burden to others and am actually a really good friend. It was at college my parents could finally see their daughter again because she was happy. 

I’ve learned as I’ve gotten older that a lot of peoples’ brains work differently and a lot of people my age have psychological disorders. It doesn’t mean we aren’t worthy or deserving of meaningful relationships and a meaningful life, it is just something that we may have to continue to navigate through just like any life obstacle. 

If you’re reading this, your puzzle piece fits. You just have to find the right puzzle.

Greta C., University of Southern California

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