How I told my friends

I started to notice more and more over time I was withdrawn, not wanting to do anything, and not wanting to do anything; I didn’t feel anything (happieness, joy, laughter). Those things that used to make me smile, those things that used to make time fun; those were not helping anymore. I took a mental health test and turns out I was right. I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety. The anxiety was quite a shock but then I started to notice how the littlest things could make me panic and freak out.

My friends had no idea I was goign to take this test. I wouldn’t even tell them I was doing anything. I just took off while they were in class. On my way back, I prepared myself for one of my friends to be in my room, waiting for me to get back (I always kept my door unlocked because I trusted my friends) and to hang out. I kept trying to think of what I would say, what I would tell her, what I would have to explain. Each one of my friends I was afraid to talk to because each had a different problem with this situation. My friend in my room had lost a relative of theirs, a very close one, and they were dealing with their own pain. It would be hard to tell her my pain when I knew she was dealing with her own. I knew, however, that she would understand and be supportive and help me tell my mom.

“So I have to go pick up a perscription and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me?” I started to conversation.

“They finally put you on some pills, huh? What for?” she said jokingly. I knew she was just teasing me and I am sure she felt bad for joking about it afterwards.

“They are for depression. They also help with anxiety. I got prescirbed them today.” I told her. Silence filled the room. I could tell she was thinking of what to say.

“Are you okay?” she asked me. I could tell she meant it by the tone in her voice.

“I am always going to be okay. I just need some help.”

“Well let’s go get you on those pills!” she said with a laugh. I giggled a little bit at her. It made me feel good to know she was going to treat me just the same.

On the way there we listen to music. I would try to get myself to sing along, but I would catch myself being completely silent. This was affecting everything I did, and I didn’t really notice untitl then.

“So I haven’t told (friend) yet, and I haven’t told my mom either.” I told her.

“I am not sure how she will react. Perhaps she will want to make you happy.” she said with a little hope in her voice.

This friend was going to be difficult to talk to. First, she never took anything seriously. Everything was a joke or didn’t matter to her. Second, she acted like if we were ever sad or upset we had no right to be, because it was stupid or we were just being dramatic. It’s hard to talk to someone like this about it. I had no idea how to even start it.

A couple days went on before I told her. It took me a minute to finally come out and say it. I didn’t know how to come out and say it. It took an incident at the bowling alley for me to come out and say it. You see, my anxiety made me panic about things. Things like her texting a guy I have been talking to, asking him if we were fighting (I was about to tell him I didn’t think we were going to work out). When he messaged me abut I instantly started panicking. I tried to talk to her about it, but my anxiety took over and it came out as panicky yelps. My first friend came to me, put her hand on my shoulder, and told me I need to calm down. She could see it then that this was real. I was actually dealing with this and not just faking it. That’s when I knew I had to tell her.

On our way from the bowling alley, I told her there was something I’ve been needing to tell her.

“Do you remember that night my mom came up here?” I asked her.

“Yeah your white mom,” she said (it’s a joke between us).

“Haha right. Well, that was a night after I went to the wellness center and they told me I had severe depression and anxiety.” I decided to include the severe part because I needed her to realize it was serious.

“Well, I am sorry if I upset you, or did something to hurt you. You know I care about you a lot.” I could see she was serious, mostly because these aren’t words she uses. I could also tell she was worried about the bowling incident. I don’t care about it now but I did then, and I worried about it the next few days.

It was really hard for me to come out and say that this is what I was dealing with. Mostly because I am the one who takes care of everyone else. To know that I had to be taken care of was really hard for me. I am still working on it now, and it isn’t easy but I’m getting through it.


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