1/9/25
As I end the first week of 2025, I cannot help but reminisce about my incredibly eventful 2024. I can say without a doubt that 2024 was the best year of my life. One of the greatest factors of my wondrous year was treating my mental illnesses.
Around halfway through the year, I decided to “see” a therapist—I put see in quotes because I met with her over Zoom. I originally wanted to immediately see a psychiatrist because I thought therapy to be futile in my case, but my nurse practitioner mother’s recommended psychiatrist was not taking new patients. Upon our first meeting, I told my therapist that I was most concerned with my lack of attention and inability to focus, which I assumed was ADHD. I have never in my life studied for longer than twenty minutes. I legitimately cannot find myself able to focus for very long. What I lack in attentiveness, I make up for in natural intelligence. By the grace of the genetic lottery, I was blessed with a strong memory and incredible acuity. I say this not arrogantly, but factually. I have always succeeded in academics, but never with much effort, which I have always been aware of. However, as college approached, as a college senior, I decided my academic strategies (or lack thereof) would kill me in college. After I listed these worries to my therapist, she simply brushed them off. She found my 4.89 GPA to prove my self-diagnosed ADHD impossible. So, we tackled my next concern: anxiety/OCD.
I have always been aware of my OCD and the anxiety it produces. My mother has severe obsessive-compulsive disorder, and a milder form of it was passed down to me. What an amazing heirloom. Since I was very young, I have done plenty of research on OCD; I’ve written essays, created slideshow presentations, and read academic papers. The most debilitating aspects of my OCD were anxiety and overactive mind activity. Essentially, my mind never stops, and I overanalyze every event that happens or could happen. I listed these concerns to my therapist, to which she responded with pointless mind exercises. “Imagine your anxious thoughts are contained in a Tupperware container and close the lid.” After she told me this, I canceled our meetings and sought the soonest available psychiatrist.
Upon my first meeting with him, I began trials of plethoric anti-anxiety and OCD medications: Cymbalta, Lexapro, Propranolol, Vistaril, Buspar, Neutronin, and Xanax. After months of these trials, I landed on my perfect cocktail: Lexapro and Xanax. Now, over a year later, my life has genuinely changed. I no longer ruminate on unnecessary and self-deprecating thoughts. I can wear clothing without obsessing over the folds of my pant legs over my shoes. I no longer imagine dead children are under my bed, or that an intruder hiding in my closet is going to rape me in my sleep.
Now that my OCD and anxiety are under control, I have begun to tackle my ADHD. I am currently on my second trial of ADHD medication and carry great optimism for my future. Who knows, maybe once free of ADHD, I will evolve into a modern Albert Einstein. Probably not, but one can dream.
Although therapy can help millions of people, I am not so lucky. With OCD, I essentially therapize myself. I know exactly where my issues stem from and am aware of how ridiculous they are; I have thought of every remedy any therapist could ever recommend. Thus, medication is my only hope.
So, do not be afraid to see that therapist, google those symptoms, or seek that medication. Nobody knows your mental health better than you.
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