Prozac in my Cheerios

A Wrinkle in Time

Our class read A Wrinkle in Time a year before my panic attacks began. The main character, Meg Murray, spends most of the book searching for her father. She has many serious problems, but she believes that once she finds him, everything will be set right again. However, once they're reunited, she comes to the scary realization that he is just another helpless and imperfect human being. He cannot save her. Only Meg can save herself.

I did not realize at the time that I would be having a similar crisis a year later.

At just eleven years old, in the blink of an eye, my mind was suddenly deluged with frightening images, thoughts, feelings, and physical reactions that I seemed to have no control over.

I briefly and desperately clung to the belief that the adults in my life would save me. My parents. The doctors. The therapists. They would fix me. They would know what to do.

But my parents didn't know how to help me. My doctor's diagnoses did not comfort or cure me. My therapy and medication didn't alleviate my suffering.

And then with a blow I realized that nobody could help me. Not my parents. Not my teachers. Not the medical "experts" assigned to help me.

They could offer diagnostics, medications and "treatments", spout off platitudes and promises that "It will get better" but they couldn't reach inside my mind and fix what was broken.

At eleven years old, I realized that only I could help myself.

The rest of my adolescence would be spent fighting mental illness and teaching myself coping skills.

I am still fighting today. The fight never ended.