Do I Actually Have It: Yes
Severity: 9/10
I guess the best place to start with this stuff is at the beginning. In late 2010, my parents and friends started to notice something about me: I would stare off into space for no reason and ask weird questions. I didn't notice for whatever reason, but after a few months it started to become a problem.
I went to the school therapist on March 21st, and then the doctor the following Friday. They took some blood tests and determined that my serotonin levels were low.
Like, really low.
Approximately 60% below the "normal limit" low.
After two prescriptions to some anti-anxiety medicine and a few weeks, things started to regulate. Sort of. I still thought a lot about random off the wall things that weren't relevant to anyone or anything in my life, coupled with asking weird questions about things that weren't important or even made any friggin' sense, but things were still a little bit better at least. And when you feel like the world is against you, you're gonna have to take every little victory you can get.
Living with anxiety has had a lot of bads and a lot of goods. For awhile when I was taking the anti-anxiety meds, I couldn't write. (That's kind of my thing.) I couldn't write songs or stories, or even good papers for English. That was a problem. On the flip side, I could talk to people and give a really good speech, something that I'd struggled with in the past. And that was a good thing. One of my philosophies in life, and probably the most important one to me, is that no matter how bad something is you can always take something good away from it.
Fast forward nearly three years, and I no longer take the anti-anxiety medicine. (I quit a little over a year ago.) I still have bad days, and occasionally I even have a bad week, but things are much, much better than they were when this first arose. And that's the best part I can take away from all this. Things are better.
Sometimes not great, but better.
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