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Celina DAmico
Dr. DiSarro
ENG101
21 February 2014
Anxiety: A Monster
Sitting outside of the school, heart racing, reluctant to undo my seat belt, I sit in
angst. My mom tells me that I will be okay, yet I cant bring myself to overcome this
feeling of worry. Instead, tears begin to stream down my face. Finally I collect myself
and enter the school with anxiousness and the feeling of unease still in the pit of my
stomach. A constant feeling of hopelessness hovers over me. Later I would come to label
these feelings with two words, anxiety disorder.
As a toddler I was more reserved and reluctant to engage in activities than other
children. I was always smiling though, and for the most part was a content child. Always
willing to venture around, I found interest in climbing things and studying nature, insects
especially. I was always happy, there was nothing to worry about. It began in elementary
school with separation issues. In first grade I would cry at school quite often and my
teacher would have to then remove me from class in order to calm me down. It would
reach the point to where my teacher would get aggravated with me and yell at me, which
would make me even more upset. I always wanted to go home to be with my mother with
whom I had, and still have, a strong bond. This continued, but improved throughout the
year and eventually the issue diminished.
In second grade through fifth grade I then experienced an extreme increase in
anxiety once again due to bullying and my tendency to fear and overthink things. I did
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not eat lunch at school for these three years. I had this overwhelming thought implanted
in my mind that if I were to eat at school I would vomit, which was not at all true. I
feared vomiting and chose to starve myself rather than risk the small chance that it would
happen. This worried my mother and I began seeing the guidance counselor at my school.
I would visit with her several times a week to see if we could solve the issue at hand. Her
soft voice and bright eyes comforted me. I felt safe, away from my peers, when I was in
her office. She got me to eat some of my lunch when we would meet, but I would only
eat when I was there. This issue then provided the base for the start of the bullying. My
classmates would make fun of me for not eating and isolate me. I felt uncomfortable
every day at lunch. My one close friend, Tammy, would sit with me at a secluded table.
She was a kind-hearted girl. It was nice to have someone who did not judge me based on
my flaws. From then on, the bullying continued through those three years. I was known
as the girl who didnt eat and other children would actually bring that up if I introduced
myself at times. This of course did not help my anxiety.
Along with my neglecting to eat at school, in fourth grade I began to have
difficulty going to school again. Every morning I would dread the six hours that were to
come once I left my house. I remember sitting in the car at the drop-off line outside of the
school almost every day, delaying my departure into the building. It was as if I couldnt
breath. My heart pounding in my chest, like a time bomb ticking away, faster, faster.
There was a constricting feeling in my chest, as though there were a concrete wall closing
in on me every second. I would turn to my mother for reassurance that everything would
be okay at least a dozen times. Are you sure? I would ask. Some days were more
difficult than others. There were times when I would cry and my mother would have to
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park the car and sit with me while I sat in discontent. It reached the point where I would
cry during class again as well. That was when my mother decided that it was time for me
to see someone. There it is, the dreaded exit. As wide as it is, cars are jammed in bumper-
to-bumper traffic. With the sound of car horns and city bustle in the distance, I sit, staring
out at the cloudy sky. We are coming up to the street with the brick building we will soon
be stepping foot into. As we walk in, I cling to my mother, afraid of the unknown. I
began seeing a councilor, Sarah, once a week at a facility in Boston, the Center for
Anxiety and Related Disorders. I proceeded to this councilor for twelve weeks. During
my visits I would express my concerns about eating at school and about other smaller
issues that caused me my anxiety. Confined in the small, darkly painted room, one day,
Sarah told me that we were going to address my fear of vomiting. I sat in the leather chair
with a look of horror on my face. She had printed out three images of people vomiting
and had me look at them multiple times. This exposure technique made me feel
uncomfortable to say the least, but I trusted that she knew what she was doing. After
visiting Sarah for twelve weeks, my anxiety arose less often and I began eating lunch at
school. I will never forget how much I struggled during those three years and how much
my parents and Sarah helped me overcome my issues.
With my fears of separation and eating as only memories in the past, I continued
on. Middle school went smoothly as well as the first two years of high school. During
sophomore year things went downhill again. I began to experience more anxiety in
addition to a new feeling of depression. I felt sad more often. It was the kind of sadness
that overcomes your entire body, every bone, and every vein, was filled with a deepening
hopelessness. Wishing that someone would care enough to notice how much I was
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suffering, I began hurting myself. Suicidal thoughts followed. Why would it matter if I
were gone? Nobody cared about me anyway. Locked away in my bedroom for hours with
my head buried in my hands, I would do anything to avoid people. With nobody to talk to
and a thought filled head, it was like I was fighting a war with myself. Do I try to conquer
my demons or do I fall fate to my insecurities? Depression took over my life resulting in
negative effects on relationships with the people that I cared about the most. My friends
had the impression that I only wanted attention. Get over it and Youre acting
ridiculous became common phrases directed toward me in conversation. The constant
criticizing enveloped my emotions and I. One close friend in particular wrote a post that
said terrible things about me. I could not bare the hatred I was receiving. Months went by
with this monster still at rest on my shoulder, constantly digging at my emotions, when
finally I decided I could handle it no longer. I began focusing on the positives more often
than before. Eventually I was able to be happy once again, to mend my friendships, and
to mend myself. I saw how much my emotions were keeping me from enjoying life. I was
not being fair to myself. I stopped sitting in my room alone and instead went out and got
a job. I began devoting more time to doing activities with my friends and family.
Senior year was the year for me. With friends and school events to distract me
from my thoughts, I was able to remain cheerful and satisfied with my life. I focused on
my schoolwork and my babysitting job. On top of getting good grades I felt like I had
finally found my place and the people I was meant to be with. Little did I realize that
college was just around the bend.
With the car packed and all goodbyes said, my family and I, squished together
like a can of sardines, headed to Endicott. During the first week of the semester my
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anxiety came back full force. Crying became a regular occurrence for me while
completing homework assignments and I was more overwhelmed than ever. I started to
think, What if college isnt for me? and Am I even capable of handling this?. I
pushed through my emotions and eventually got a schedule down and felt accomplished.
Things were finally going well. By the end of the semester I was doing well in my
classes and spending time with all of my close friends.
I have let anxiety control my decisions and emotions for most of my life. By
coming to college and learning how important it is to overcome my fears, I have been
able to improve my efforts to diminish my anxiety. I have come to realize that there are
going to be those times where things seem so overwhelming that it seems tempting to just
throw it all away and sit in that cozy blanket on my bed, but it is about facing those
challenges with strength. I know that I will not accomplish my dreams if I hide in my
room for the rest of my life. I now have the skills to work through my anxiety and to
become a stronger person.