Overcoming Low Self-Esteem and Anxiety Personal Stories of Resilience

There are people in our lives that make us feel safe and loved and respected. And then for some of us out there, there are people in our lives that are supposed to make us safe and loved and respected, but they don't do their job. My entire life I've had a wonderful father who has made so many sacrifices for me and taken care of me so that I could have a better future. Unfortunately, I can't say the same about my mother. From a young age, I was always ridiculed, teased, and taunted by my mom. And whenever I did something wrong, I wasn't properly sat down and disciplined. I was yelled at and smacked even sometimes. I grew up

with a very low self-esteem because my mom would say things like, "You're terrible. I don't like you. I don't love you at all. I think that you're a big burden to this family. What sin could I have possibly committed to have had you as a kid?" And she thought that all of these words would just brush over and that I would realize that she somehow didn't mean them. But she said them so many times that I don't think she doesn't believe them. In fact, I'm quite sure that she means everything that she says. And as a result, it has lowered my self-esteem and my self-worth and it has made me do

things like cutting and inflicting self-harm. As a young adult, even now, I suffer with this. Of course, I have stopped inflicting self-harm, but I have struggled with my self-worth so much. Whenever I look into the mirror, I can't see a girl that I love and appreciate. I can't see somebody that is strong and independent. I see someone who's weak and who's been broken and shattered by a negative influence all her life. To those of you out there who are struggling because of some negative influence in your life, whether it be your parents or an ex-best friend or an ex-boyfriend or a bully or anything, please remember that you're not alone. That you don't deserve to suffer this way and nobody should be able to say that to you. You

are wonderful, compassionate human beings and you have so much to offer this world. Don't let this negative influence take over your life anymore. I was an extremely nervous and shy kid. The type that hid behind their mom to avoid any social interaction. My first day of grade one was a complete nightmare. My dad dropped me at school and I begged him to go to class with me. I couldn't stand the thought of being alone in a room full of strangers. I cried and cried until he said yes. Turns out I was the only kid in class with a parent sitting beside me holding my hand. And it seemed like the older I got

the worse my anxiety became. I began to get more and more anxious to do things. I never raised my hand in class in fear of being wrong and everyone laughing at me. One day the teacher called on me to answer the question and I sat there shaking and sweating in my seat trying to form the words I wanted to say. Finally, my answer came out as a stutter and a few people chuckled beside me. And yes, I ended up being right, but it took so much effort out of me. In grade eight we started to do a lot of presentations in class. I would always

memorize what I needed to say, but the moment I stood in front of the class I would forget everything. I would stand up there completely paralyzed. There was this one time when my teacher called me up to the front of the class to present. And as I was walking up, I tripped over someone's foot, knocked over the projector, and landed right on my face. I stood up as fast as I could and ran to the girls' bathroom to cry. I felt like I was always embarrassing myself. Even school dances were a struggle. I would stand against a wall while everyone had a good time.

Eventually, high school rolled around. My anxiety continued to hold me back. I struggled to meet new people, so I would sit in the library to eat my lunch. There were even a few times when the library was full and I had to eat in a washroom stall. I began developing a fear for being in crowded spaces. I could only sit in a packed classroom for a certain amount of time before I had to get up and leave. So, I had to go see a guidance counselor to tell her what was wrong. And she gave me these slips of paper that I could give my teacher whenever I was feeling an anxiety attack coming on, and he would excuse me from the classroom

without asking any questions. This helped me, but people started to wonder why I left the classroom so frequently. People thought I was extremely strange. The only way I can explain an anxiety attack to you is a feeling of not being able to breathe. Like something is pressing really hard on your chest and you can't take a full breath in. Your heartbeat gets faster and your whole body heats up until you sweat uncontrollably. It's a feeling of panic. Sometimes you don't even know why you feel this way. Sometimes it just happens when you least expect it. There was one day in grade 10 when my mom took my sister and I to see a movie. When we got

there, the theater was pretty packed, so we had to sit in the very middle of an aisle surrounded by tons of people in every direction. About halfway through the movie, I began to feel the panic coming on. My heart began speeding up and I couldn't seem to calm myself down. I tried fanning myself with the empty popcorn bag, but that wasn't working. So, I whispered into my mom's ear and told her what was going on. She seemed confused, but saw on my face how upset I was. So, we all got up and left the theater. I finally decided this was enough. I needed help. My parents set me up with a therapist in my area. It was a very comfortable environment and I was able to tell her everything that was bothering me. She

told me that I definitely had an anxiety disorder. She told me that she can work with me to lessen its effect on my life. This took a while, but with help I was noticing changes in my life. I began reaching out to people at school. I rarely left my class or a movie theater because I felt claustrophobic. Things were changing all around me for the better. And yes, anxiety is still a part of my life, but it isn't as dominant as it was before. My last year of college I was even able to start my YouTube channel, which took a lot of courage and confidence.

I'm even able to talk to an audience of people at meet and greets without having a complete meltdown. Things are great, and I'm the happiest I've been in my entire life. When I first went on study abroad, I was super excited. Everyone always tells you it is the best experience of your life and you won't want to come home by the time it's over. I was excited to experience this new culture, these new people, and especially the history of where I was staying. So, I finally got off my flight, made my way to my dorm, and I remember looking out the window for the first time and just getting this feeling of dread. I was alone in a country I had never been in. I didn't know anybody. I was just thinking, "What had I gotten myself into?"

So, I called my family up and I said, "To be honest, I don't know if I made the right choice." So, my sister called me back and said, "Well, I went on study abroad and I had the same feelings at first. You feel alone. You feel scared, but you'll adapt and you'll have a great time." So, the first week went on. I met some very nice people. I saw some beautiful sights, but there was almost this veil over my eyes as if I wasn't really experiencing what I was seeing. People would always ask, you know, "How's study abroad going? What are you seeing? What are you doing? Are you having a good time?" And there's such a pressure on you in study abroad to have this fantastic life-changing experience. So, I would

just kind of smile and nod. I would post pictures on social media detailing the places I went, but all of it was really quite hollow. I felt extremely lost and like I didn't have a purpose. I wasn't enjoying my classes. I was having trouble making connections and I overall just was desperate to go home. My family had spent so much money on this trip on my college and the education I was receiving and I was afraid that going home would make me a failure. So, after 2 and 1/2 months abroad, I reached a point that I think was finally my breaking point. I felt like there was no escape. Like if I went home I was a failure, but if I stayed I would have to continue to be miserable and alone. So, I called up my

therapist and I told him how I really felt and this was a point where him and I together decided I needed to go home. This meant I would not receive any of the credits I had worked hard on my classes. I would have to retake this semester, but I was just so desperate to get out of the situation it didn't matter anymore. So, 2 days later I was on a plane home. I told all my friends I was leaving. I told my flatmates why I had to go and on social media I made a post saying, "For health reasons I will be coming home early." So, it has been a month since I came home and people will still ask me how my study abroad was and it's still a very tough question for me to answer because I was in a beautiful place and I saw

beautiful things I will never forget, but it just wasn't the right time for me to do what I was doing. In the end, I had to figure out that my mental and physical health were what were most important in the situation and that sometimes what everyone else does is not what you need to do. Do things at your own pace because sometimes your pace is different from what other people expect it to be. I might as well totally jump off the cliff and just swim all the way to shore because the dog chases all the way to the end.

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