One of the most painful feelings is when your body tenses up and freezes. Your body seems to malfunction. Your breathing becomes irregular, your heartbeat quickens, and chills run through you. Panic surges through you, and you try to ask for help, but they don’t seem to understand. It feels like no one ever will. This is known as a panic attack.

Most people don’t notice the pain I'm trying to hold in. They see a person who stands tall and carries themselves with pride, a bright smile on my face and life in my eyes. But internally, I am the complete opposite. Tears fall in puddles onto the floor. Mustering up a smile takes up all of my energy. At any second, I can fall to my knees and crumble. Pain streams down my legs and arms, and I don’t know how to stop. Despite this, I keep trying. 

Why? 

I have been struggling for my entire life, and I haven’t seen much light in the empty pit of blackness I have found myself in. Deaths in the family, sexual assault, mental and physical abuse dealt to me every day. These were the memories of my childhood.  On the morning of my little brother’s 7th birthday, I woke up crying. All I wanted to do was to fall asleep and not wake up, but I had to go to the arcade to celebrate with my family. I needed to stay strong for them. Soon I found myself sitting in the car, off to the arcade. Silent cries came out in whispers from my mouth. My breath came out in gasps. But no one heard me. No one ever had, and I believed that no one ever would. As we arrived at the arcade, I walked through the doors, struggling to hold my head high. As I watched my family's faces light up in joy and laughter after getting out our game card, I thought to myself,  “Why can’t I be like that?” I sat and stared longingly at the happy families, and thought, “Why can’t I receive that kind of love?” 

Then my eyes fell upon a little girl with hair pulled into pigtails, wearing a cute dress. She was trying to swipe her game card, but it had run out of money. I walked over, swiping my card to help the little girl play. Soon, she had gained many tickets, and she gave them to me with a huge smile. I smiled back, and for the first time in a while, I felt warm inside. I asked the little girl where her parents were. She responded, “My mom is over there!” as she pointed. My smile faltered as I saw her mom on her phone, not paying much attention to her own daughter. As I felt the pit inside me grow, I gazed back at her and saw a mirror image of myself. After spending more time with her, I noticed more and more that she was kind of like me: neglected and in need of love. After an hour or so, I felt so much happier; I had been able to make this girl happy, and in return, she showed me gratitude. I left the arcade with a huge smile on my face and easily stood tall and proud. This little girl, though she will never know it, guided me past the fog to see my actual potential, and demonstrated that I too could be happy. 

This was where I realized that life didn’t really need to be so bad after all. Therapy and medication are always there to help fight against mental health, but at least for me, they can only do so much. In the end, I realized that most of the treatment has to come from within.  I have come to see that I am the biggest obstacle that is preventing myself from healing. I was the one who held myself away from the happiness and joy that I could have experienced. Now I am fighting my depression, trauma, and anxiety, and I have no doubt that I will win. 

“Sometimes, life will kick you around, but sooner or later, you realize you're not just a survivor. You're a warrior, and you're stronger than anything life throws your way"- Brooke Davis