Hi! I’m a fourteen year old girl who just finished my freshman year of high school. I’m a cheerleader, softball player, programmer for the robotics team, academic team member, debater, and member of interact club. I have the highest GPA in my class, 4.86, and want to go to MIT. On the side I sing, play piano and guitar, and songwrite. More than anything I wanna be a country singer. I’m average height, average weight, with dark brown hair, hazel eyes, and a love for old softball jerseys and men’s athletic shorts. From the outside it seems like nothing’s wrong. I look and act like a normal high schooler when people are watching. The problem is when people aren’t watching.

I’ve had a tense relationship, to say the least, with my mom. Since age five, nothing I’ve done has been good enough for her. By age ten, it was becoming more and more apparent, and, finally, when I was thirteen and wanted to join cheerleading, she exploded.
“You’re too fat, not coordinated enough, not pretty enough, and not popular. You’re doing this for the wrong reasons. They won’t like you. No one does. You’re going to fail at this. You’re stupid for even trying.”
Thanks for the encouragement, Mom. I really needed her to yell at me for over twenty minutes, in public, about how I wasn’t good enough for cheerleading. Since then, she’s gotten worse, and now she’ll yell at me about anything. The worst part is, she’s in a position of power over me, so I can’t do anything about it. Since age five, I’ve known that I have never been and will never be good enough for anyone.

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I have been suffering with anxiety and panic attacks for 13 years.  I am 22 and in my last year as college and graduating with 2 degrees.  I cannot leave my hometown, drive at night, in the rain, fog, on the highway, or long distances.  I have trouble being in a car that is new, being on the highway, at night, or crossing a bridge.  I have lost several friends because I could not make the things they wanted me to come to or they found trying to deal with my issues was too stressful for them.  I have tried medicine and counseling, but they do not seem to work too well.  I gave up so much of my life hiding who I was and missed so many opportunities.  I was offered several scholarships for college, but I could not take them.  I missed once in a life time trips and tournaments because I let this control my life.  The past 4 years I have told my story to anyone interested and tried to help anyone in need especially those suffering from panic attacks.  I have not met anyone like me who has at least a panic attack a day, but even someone who has only had one in their life deserves support.  I hope someday people realize those with a mental illness do not choose it, they do not give into and it isn’t just a thought that is easily changed.  It is an illness that needs support.  I hope someday I will be able to travel leave this city or state or even continent.  To chase my real dreams or to help someone else be able to grow past their illness.

You will make it I tell myself! In the mist of the storm pain fear and anger abandonment unanswered questions patrolling my soul. Ask? Do you have an answer for me. I cry and shout toss and turn hide and crawl back into darkness until I feel a release depression this beast borderline. I’m so tired embarrassed humiliated confused destroyed in my thinking. I’m swimming up stream believing for calmer streams. I pray this journal will come to and end not with my life; I fight on. There is a test I’m going to pass. Courage.

I walk for my mother, Nola who took her life by placing a pillow over her heart and then carefully aiming her gun, and pulling the trigger…I know her battle was a hard one…

I walk for my brother, Terry who at the age of 51, jumped from his favorite scenic view…to “see his mother…to join her.” He too battled hard…

I walk for my dad, George. Who let C02, send him off to sleep, with his picture of his mom and grandmother beside him, his heart heavy missing so many people. I know his battle too was a hard  one…

I walk for my cousin, Jason. Who also battled hard…

I walk for my friend Pam, who OD…who also battled hard

I walk for those…whom I consider tough warriors…though they lost their battles…they did fight and they fought hard…

I walk for my hero’s they may be gone…but they are never forgotten

TEAM CROWTHER…PARTY OF ONE…I WALK BECAUSE I CAN…EVEN WITH A HEAVY HEART…I WALK FOR THOSE WHO HAVE TOUCHED MY HEART…MY LIFE.

I am a mom to three beautiful children. I have two boys and my baby is a girl. All of my children mean the world to me. Sadly, my eldest son has given me a run for my money. I wish I could tell you for sure what exactly is wrong but I can’t seem to get a consensus amongst the numerous professionals he has seen just this year. Just this year alone, he has been hospitalized at a mental facility three times for various reasons. He has received a string of diagnosis’s ranging from ADHD, ODD, IED, disruptive mood Disregulation disorder, Autism spectrum, mood disorder Nos, PDD-NOS. His therapist thinks he very much fits under Conduct Disorder. To be honest with you, I don’t care what the label is, I just need help.

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I say my struggle because that’s what it has been for the past 13 years. I recently read another person’s story who was diagnosed just a few years before me in 1995. I was diagnosed “officially” in 2001/2002 after my mother died.

I didn’t suffer any trauma or abuse. I wasn’t an alcoholic. 

The death of my mother was my triggering event.

What should have been “normal” grief over the loss of my mother took on a life of its own. 

I went to see my first psychiatrist in December 2001.

And I even shared with him my family history..thinking that it might be relevant that my father had been diagnosed manic-depressive late in life at the age of 48.

The psychiatrist then prescribed an anti-depressant.

Now, if one doesn’t have the predisposition for bipolar disorder that might have been sufficient…

By mid March I was bouncing off the walls, literally in a full blown manic episode.

And I can remember returning to that psychiatrists office and asking what now?

And this was his answer to me: rather then put me on a mood stabilizer which was what I needed and which were available at the time he said that he was going to take me off the antidepressant and that he wanted to see what was going to happen.

He went on to say that 2 things were possible. First, I could level out. Second I might bottom out.

I bottomed out.

I also switched psychiatrists.

Since I didn’t appreciate the lack of professionalism and the game of Russian roulette that the first psychiatrist decided to play with my so called life.

You matter. Whether you realize it or not, you have changed someone’s life. As humans, we are immensely diverse and have different influences. So, it is impossible that you have not touched someone—changed their life for the better. Someone out there is thankful for you and that is magical.

Every person on this earth has a demon they are fighting. To struggle is a part of life, but it is rare that life instantly rights itself and the struggle disappears. It is more often the simplest events that aid us all in continuing the fight. Therefore, simple acts of kindness count most.

There is something good inside of you. In your own way, you are attractive, smart, and enchanting. You have such great light. This is a light that has developed due to each and everyone who has crossed your path. It is also a light composed of your talents. Finally, it is a light that should shine. This is accomplished by kindness. We are all born with the innate ability to put a smile on the face of another—activate it. Be kind to others and you will receive kindness in return. Become a reflection of the world you wish to see and you’ll be amazed of your contagion. In this awareness and change in yourself, you just may change the world around you (one act at a time).

You matter. What you do matters. Pass it on.