Tough Cookie: The Way That Changed My Life

Growing up, I was always one tough cookie. I was born into a military family, taught how to respect others as well as myself, and told that faith is the most important thing to ever exist. I fell, I cried, I fumed, and I stood back up again. I am strong, and I will overcome.

As a kid, I was a happy-go-lucky type of girl. Nothing could bring me down, no matter how bad the situation may have been. This all changed in the fifth grade. That was when my parents started fighting, when I realized that I was different, when the bullying started. Of course, for the first couple of years or so, I pushed past any obstacles life put in my way. At least, that’s how everything was until depression had taken over every aspect of my life. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep, and I couldn’t even smile. Something was eating away at my very soul, at every fiber of my being. It just so happened that that very

My entire essence of life was collapsing each and every time. My throat closed up, my heart raced. My eyes watered, yet no tears would fall. I would gasp for help, but no one could hear me. That voice in my head taunted me, spit at me, cursed my whole existence. Usually I made fun of myself for being claustrophobic, or arachnophobic, or even enochlophobic. I couldn’t handle being in big crowds, in tight spaces, in elevators, in any of my classrooms. To be quite frank, it got to the point where I was too terrified to lock myself in the bathroom stall. Everything was spiralling downwards, deeper and deeper into the abyss of self-loathing. The end of sophomore year suddenly came rolling by. It was my last year at the school I had attended since I was six. The school that shaped my faith and helped me grow stronger. Three, maybe four months, have passed since then. Despite the fact that I had a panic attack only five days ago, things were increasingly easier. That was when I realized