Depression, anxiety, and behavioral disorders are among the leading causes of illness and disability among adolescents according to the World Health Organization (WHO).

At the age of thirteen, I was officially diagnosed with an anxiety disorder and handed a pill bottle, the first of many. On that day, medication became my greatest ally and enemy when it came to my anxiety.

My whole life I had always been a fairly anxious and over-emotional kid. Whether it be crying over my dad sitting too close to a ledge during a hike or making up insane scenarios laying awake at night, I could have gone pro in worrying. Even now, sitting down to write this has me picking at my skin and stressing over if I’m sharing too much and how I’ll ever get this done on time.

Feeling this much and so deeply was really hard for me as a kid—and still is. I was constantly dwelling on if I said something weird or if my friends had randomly started hating me. My thoughts were too much to handle, let alone understand how to deal with them.

After some convincing, near the end of my eighth grade year, my mom took me to the doctors to see if I had Attention-Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD), something that typically goes hand in hand with anxiety. I was then diagnosed, which eventually led to ADHD medication.

It didn’t help me. It actually made me more miserable than I already was.

I was groggy during the day and more hyper than usual at night, much to my parents’ dismay. After weeks of this, it was back to the doctors to find something that would work for my mess of a brain. Eventually, we landed on the supposed answer to all my prayers: anxiety medication.

Now, don’t get me wrong, being on medication for these past three years has opened doors previously closed. I am able to make more friends with the lessened fear of being awkward; medication had salvaged my wreck of a social life. But it isn’t a magic fix-all solution. I still have days where my body trembles at the thought of social interaction.

A lot of it revolves around balance, understanding that while the medication does help, I am still living with anxiety. Even so, knowing that I need balance and actually following through on it is tough for me. If I forget to take my medication for a while, it really messes with my overall routine.

I vividly remember when I didn’t take my medication on a trip this past summer. I was up all night thinking about everything that was stressing me out, and it all hit me like a tidal wave. I could barely sleep. It felt like my heart was going to jump out of my chest. I often worry about how much I rely on medication and even question who I really am in relation to my prescription.

Does the medication fix what’s wrong with my brain and, therefore, make me more like others, more “normal?”

Or am I relying on it too much, and that maybe I should just suck it up because, hey, everyone gets anxious about things.

Nonetheless, as I feel my chest tighten and my breath hitch for the hundredth time, I remember that the way I’m living isn’t normal, and that using what is available to help me is okay.

I’m so grateful to have access to medication, but to be honest, I’m still unsure about a lot when it comes to my anxiety. While it is very hard to manage, I’m still constantly trying to learn to deal with it and grow. I’m able to ground myself when I’m reminded that it’s okay to feel this way and I’m not wrong for being so emotional and just existing as myself. Whether it be anxious and reserved, or more outgoing and confident, both of those are me.

If I will ever be able to fully understand my anxiety and heal from my past is uncertain, but I think that’s okay. Not knowing where my journey could lead next is scary, and dare I say anxiety inducing, but from here on out I’m trying to embrace the scary.

Making mistakes is a part of life, and even though I sometimes feel like that scared little kid pacing around her room feeling like the world is going to end, I’ve come a long way.

Everyone’s experience with mental health issues is different, but from what I’ve learned in my measly 16 years of living, every little step is progress. I may have days where I feel like my life is collapsing, but just taking it one day at a time and going easy on myself can make all the difference.