Changing Leaves: Learning to ask for help

God, this week was awful. And not in the “oh, midterm season” kind of way, but in the “why am I so incapable” kind of way, or “thinking I was going to have a heart attack” kind of way. Sort of ironic that me, and everyone I know, had a huge mental health spiral the week of our Mental Health Awareness issue.

The truth is, my anxiety got the best of me this last week. I spent moments clutching my heart, calming myself down in the middle of a panic attack. I spent an hour looking for counsellors at 3 a.m. on the night before my midterm. I sent voice notes of myself hyperventilating, fully planning on admitting myself to the hospital, desperate for a way to feel safe and grounded. As much as I tried to rationalize my thoughts, I couldn’t. My usual coping mechanisms failed miserably.

To be honest, I feel like a failure. In school, at work, in my relationships. I feel like a failure for having panic attacks. I never anticipated it would get this bad. I never thought I would reach a point in my life where I’d feel like the leaves won’t change. That my life is stuck like this for a longer time than I can handle. 

In my last addition to Changing Leaves, I talked about how good moments are guaranteed, and that those moments are what help us get to the next happy point. But truthfully, I didn’t feel that sentiment this week. I crave a solution, I crave compassion, not empathy—a distinction I learned from my counsellor today. And yes, I said counsellor. I sought out the Health and Counselling Centre at school. And I don’t know where it’ll go, but I need help working through my severe anxiety. Because the honest truth is, I can’t do this alone. 

I don’t think people have to face their battles alone—a hypocritical thing for me to say, but I’m trying to accept it. Because I can’t let anxiety be a rerun segment. I need help. And that’s okay.