Once I finally told my family, my sister’s response was “Not Elizabeth. She’s the only one who has it all together.” From the outside, it seemed like I had it all together. I went to class, went out, would smile and laugh with friends. But in the back of my mind, I couldn’t feel any of it.

Growing up, I may have been the youngest of three sisters, but I grew into the role of the oldest. Between my sister who struggles with OCD and a family history of anxiety, I was the person they leaned on for emotional support, the person they called when they were breaking down and the person they relied on. I became the therapist of the family.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful I can help my family when they need. But sometimes you need to realize you need to help yourself before you can help anyone else. I became so accustomed to taking care of everyone else, that I began neglecting myself.

I started feeling anxious when I started college, but it was during my sophomore year at NYU when everything started building up. For the first time, I was struggling in my classes. Being a first-generation college student from a small town, it was easy to compare myself to all the students who went to private science high schools or who came from a family of physicians. I had known I wanted to be a doctor since I was in second grade and now I felt like I was throwing away my dream. After twelve years of playing soccer, I had turned down division one scholarships to pursue my dream school and focus on my studies and now I found myself unsure if I could even apply to medical school. On top of that, I constantly felt guilty because of the financial strain my education put on my family.

Being half way across the country from home, I didn’t have much of a support system. I didn’t have any pre-medical friends at school. I felt completely alone. When I would talk to my family or friends, everything seemed okay. But for months I was struggling with a constant, gripping feeling of anxiety that wouldn’t leave. Sometimes, I would be so overcome with anxiety that I would have panic attacks. Other times I would be so overwhelmed with emotion I’d stare at the wall and feel completely numb.

When I felt it was becoming too much to handle, I realized I needed help and I started seeing a counselor at school. After I finally told my family, I felt so relieved. With their help, putting myself first and reconnecting with my faith, I started feeling better. I became more connected at school and my grades improved.

I’m not ashamed of what I’ve gone through in the past because it’s made me realize how strong I really am. My experience has helped me become more self-aware and learn the importance of taking care of myself. It’s helped me get through the tough times of medical school knowing how far I’ve come. And more importantly, it’s made me realize it doesn’t mean you’re weak to ask for help, it means you were strong enough to make the right decision.

I hope this space can be a place for students to share their own personal story and know they’re not alone. No matter what you’re going through today, know it’s okay to not be okay.

Elizabeth Flerlage OMS-II