Noises they surround us all the time. Noises I want to escape. But how long will I be on the run. How am I going to do what I am supposed to do? Fear of failure because I have never experienced one before. Frustration when I so want to give up but can’t.  Why can’t I concentrate, why can’t I be happy and cheerful like people around me? What I am looking for?  Am I on a quest for a thing that is not even there?

These are noises in my head and one such night these took a toll on me. I started crying, I didn’t know what I was crying for? I was angry; I wanted to smash something just so I can get over this feeling. I am not sad but I am not happy either. I don’t know how to say it, but somehow I did manage to tell my friend that I am not alright. She understood. She consoled me and that was all I needed.

One thing that I am grateful for is I never lose control over myself. I know something is wrong before it turns into something worse. So I decided to pen it down. The next morning I woke up and decided to look for a solution to lead a healthy life.

Let me make it clear, I never had any suicidal thoughts. I have always loved being alive. I understood the value of life when I saw some poor people living by the roadside in very palpable conditions, yet clinging to life. I knew then and there, how privileged I am.

I have dreams which I don’t want to see shattered.

But something was not quite right. You can hide it from the world but not yourself. So I decided to do introspection, to know what went wrong and where?

I found out it is not a thing that happens out of the blue. It is a gradual process.  It doesn’t matter if you have a boring daily routine or a pre-planned day.   It is when you work hard to meet the expectation of others, not yours. When you work hard enough but there is no reward. When you think why things come easily to other people. You start comparing each and everything. Such comparisons lead to nothing but a void feeling. That is the void no one else can fill but you.  When you don’t have a direction to go, things start to scatter all over the place. You don’t know which one to collect first. I learnt it the hard way but at least now I have an understanding. My whole experience taught me this:

1. Plan successive Goals

I had 12 goals for this year. I have written them in my journal. One day when I was crossing some of them off the list, I realized how some of them had become obsolete. They make no sense to me. So much changes in a year. I have successfully checked off some goals. It became clear to me that my goals are ever changing. So rather than planning my year I should plan my monthly goals so that I have an understanding where I am heading and  how many of them are still valid or invalid to me.

• Failure is inevitable

There was a course that I had to complete and take the exam. But the fear that no matter how prepared I am I’ll fail, is all over my mind(even when I am writing this). The year is coming to an end and I am still not over my fear. In this moment, I told myself that one failure won’t decide the course of my life if it somehow happens to be so. I have to believe in myself and give my best. Just get it done with.

• Talk when required

You won’t be able to understand your own issue until you try and talk to someone who understands. Talking gives your emotions a way out. It clears the blur picture. On the crossroads of life it is a best medicine.  I now have a better understanding what is going wrong and how I can be back on track.

• Find time for yourself

In this race of chasing of the goals we are so self-indulge that we have no sense of time.  We lose that touch with ourselves, our feelings. I was always in a hurry because I had to do so many things simultaneously. I then decided to take a week off. I made sure I get good sleep; wake up whenever I want to, even if it’s 11 in the morning. I made sure to have breakfast with nothing in mind. I made sure that I enjoy my morning coffee without planning my day ahead. I gave myself ample of time. And it’s paying me in good way.

I don’t know what 2017 has for me, but I do have something for me. I don’t believe in making New Year resolution but I do believe in my dreams and my goals.

See where the wind takes me, for I am ready to find myself again.

(Written by Travis Walters)

Hailing from the beautiful, always hot, and mostly sunny British Virgin Islands, I am Travis Walters, a 21 year old junior at Georgia State University. Nice to meet you all and thank you for reading my story!

Where do I start? What can I even say? Well, let’s start with the sunny side of things…There has never been a time in my life, academically, where I have failed to reach any goal I have set for myself. Having graduated as valedictorian from my high school, the expectations and standards I have set for myself, by which others continuously foresee, has definitely been a motivating factor for me to continue to put my best foot forward and be successful at whatever I put my mind to.

In essence, school has always been something I have been good at – even now, with a current cumulative GPA of 4.01. With such great achievements, why do I still not feel fulfilled? Isn’t education key? Isn’t this what all kids do – go to school and get good grades? What more can I do even though I feel like I am doing the most?

That’s where passion comes in.

After graduating high school, I realized that although I was a scholar, school was never my passion. It was at that time, I decided to take a year off from continuing my education to find what my passion really was. I knew my talents; I knew I could sing; I knew I was an entertainer. I had been performing in my hometown for a couple years now, at local talent shows and music festivals but I have always wanted more. I always wanted to spread my wings and fly pass the 24 square miles I call “home”!

With continuous work and dedication toward my craft, my efforts had been realized and that is what brought me to Atlanta, Georgia initially. Through a talent competition, I was scouted by music executives to move to Atlanta to undergo a 6-month artist development program. Throughout my 6-month tenure in Atlanta, by way of trial and error, I definitely learned first hand the behind the scenes of the music business and all the work it takes to become an artist.

Building off what I had learnt, I returned back home to the Virgin Islands after six months to perform in front of my friends, family, fans and most importantly, record labels. By the end of the night, I was offered a record deal. At that moment, music was my passion so as you would expect, I accepted!

What followed my acceptance was the unexpected part!

After battling back and forth for months through lawyers, in efforts to ensure both parties of the contract were satisfied, it was finally signed! After the signing, what happened was…wait, NOTHING! I was shelved! All my dreams, aspirations and creative efforts directed towards becoming this HUGE international superstar were ultimately drained by all this “please sign, initial, read paragraph, subparagraph” nonsense that had been going on for months.

I had finally seen the music industry for what is really was…a BUSINESS! Music was no longer my passion. After being so broken, I reverted right back to what I knew best – school! I continued my education by first attending community college in my hometown to now being enrolled at Georgia State.

But I am still not fulfilled! I can feel that I am capable of more; I know I am! I have always been the type to be good at every little thing. Since having moved to Atlanta, in addition to school, I have dabbled back into music through songwriting, I have made light of my talents in photography and videography, I have taken a seat at the creative director table and lastly, I have put my best shoes on and am now walking into the direction of wardrobe styling and fashion as a whole.

So, what is my passion? Out of all these things, what am I meant to do for the rest of my life? I have no idea!

All I can do is TRUST THE PROCESS!

(Written by Anonymous)

Author’s Note: My recount of experiencing a panic attack is not a general model that all sufferers of panic disorder experience. Panic attacks can occur at any time and the triggers and signs of a panic attack are unique to each person experiencing one. However, many people have trouble describing what it’s like to experience a panic attack after it’s over. People who have never experienced a panic attack often wonder what’s “really happening” in someone’s head during a panic episode. I wrote this to answer that question: to show what’s happening in my head during a live panic attack.

10:00am

In bed. I need to get out of bed. I’ve been in bed all morning and I have so much I need to do. I need to put in my transfer application; I need to rewrite my resume; I need to check my email. But I’m so warm and comfortable and safe in bed. I don’t want to leave this comfortable, safe haven. I can wait a little longer…

11:30am

In bed. I really need to get out of bed. I’m starving and I need to pee. Fine, I’ll get up. I just don’t feel good: my stomach hurts, my back hurts, my head hurts, it all hurts. But I don’t want to stop feeling safe and comfortable. But… ok I’m getting up, I’ve really got to pee now.

11:35am

Bathroom. Alright, come on girl. Just wash your hands, brush your hair. Ugh, my teeth are disgusting. And I’m breaking out again. I swear, I don’t get why people say I’m pretty; all of these zits are disgusting. I don’t think it would make much of a difference if the zits weren’t there. Why would anyone think I’m pretty? Zit-faced, overweight, out of shape, small boobs; I don’t even want to show my face in public. People will know as soon as they look at me; they’ll know I’m screwed up, they’ll never help me. Why would anyone help someone like me? No one would bother helping me; they’ll just watch as I get yelled at again.

11:45am

Kitchen. Cereal: check. Milk: check. Coffee: check. I should check my email…I haven’t checked it in three weeks. How many emails do I have? Don’t think about that. I bet the statuses of those job applications are in, I should probably check to see if…Why would they give me a job? I screwed up college, I don’t even have an official degree yet, I look disgusting. They’ll just be rejections anyway, like all the others. And there’s probably a ton of other emails I have to answer. I don’t want to see that number on my inbox; I can’t look at it. If I see that number I’ll know just how much a failure I am. Why do I even need to see that number? I already know I’m a failure.

12:20pm

Dining room with laptop. Ok, I can do this. I need to put in my transfer application. Put in contact information, done. Income and taxes, done and done. College credits completed…crap. I don’t want to know.

I have to pull up my school’s student portal and look at my grades to find out how many credits I’ve finished. All those B’s and C’s and two F’s, and so many class withdrawals. I can’t see those grades again; they’re just proof that I’m a failure and I can’t even take a freaking class and do well. And withdrawing from everything last semester…that wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t had him as a professor. He was so scary; he was just like her…No, stop! Don’t think about her, don’t do it. She’s in the past, just click save and go take a shower. Yeah, a shower will help.

1:00pm

In the shower. Breathe in, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four. In, two, three… It feels really small in here. Maybe if I open the curtain a little bit that’ll help, but then I could get hurt. If I open the curtain the water will get all over the floor.

Mom will be mad and she’ll yell; I can’t risk that. I can’t get yelled at, not again. I’ll get hit if I get yelled at. Everyone already knows I’m a loser and a failure and ugly; don’t yell at me because of that! I can’t breathe, I can’t, she’s going to hit me again, he’s going to yell. Sit down girl, just sit down, head between your knees like you learned in first aid training.

I’m not safe, they’re going to hurt me, they’re going to yell – *A gray-haired severe looking woman wields a hardcover textbook as I struggle to find the words. What was the question again? What do I like to do? “Me gusta… me gusta bailar, no, baila, no. Me, me gusta.. bailo?” Her face contorts, she walks to my desk, raising the textbook. “Repita!” I can’t remember how to start, what did I even say? “Me… yo no sé.” I see the book coming – SMACK. My head spins, I can’t stop the tears. “Repita!” I just cry harder, I can’t speak. “Repita!” More tears, everyone’s watching, I can’t move my mouth, I can’t even move my tongue, why doesn’t someone do something? SMACK. I can’t see, I can’t breathe, please God – SMACK.* Stop thinking about that! Just breathe in, breathe out. You’re just sitting in the shower breathing, it’s all ok, you’re ok. I breathe in; how long am I supposed to count for?

Do I count for breathing in or breathing out? Or both? Oh God, please help me, don’t let her hurt me! I need to get out, I need to get somewhere safe. If I stay here she’ll find me, she’ll make me cry in front of everyone, she’ll make me stay after everyone leaves like before, no one will be watching, no one can keep me safe. I need to get somewhere safe…

1:15pm

In bed. Breathe in, and out. Breathe in, and out. I’m safe here. It’s warm, no one can hurt me if I’m in bed. My chest hurts; am I having a heart attack? No, no I can’t be, that’s ridiculous. Just calm down. I don’t know how to be calm. All I can do is panic; they’re just going to hurt me again. Where are those pills for panic episodes? It says take one…but I feel like my world is ending and I won’t feel like this if I’m asleep. I’ll just take two. I wonder how many it would take for me to never feel like this again…

5:30pm

In bed. It’s so much darker than it was before. What time is it? 5:30pm. I just want to stay here forever…I haven’t done anything I was supposed to do. Nothing. Mom is going to be so mad; I’m just a useless lump at home that costs money and I’m too scared to even open my laptop and try to find a job. I don’t want her to yell; I hate that. I don’t want to screw up, I don’t want to be a failure. But if I stay in bed, I’ll be safe. I can’t get hurt if I’m in bed, under warm blankets.

6:15pm

Living room. I hate that I have to get out of bed to get food. I don’t want to eat; I can’t even finish this orange. My stomach hurts so much, I feel like I’m going to be sick. It sucks that I’m starving at the same time. Wait, that’s the garage door. Mom’s home. Crap, I haven’t done anything. She’s going to ask, she’s going to get mad, she’s going to yell. She’s coming up the stairs.”Hi sweetheart. How was your day?’ I can’t breathe, my vision blurs. I can’t do it, I can’t answer, she’s going to think I’m such a failure. “Sweetie, are you ok?” It’s coming, she’s going to yell because I fail to do anything right.

I can’t even check my email because all it shows is a number saying I’m a good-for-nothing failure. No one can help me, no one understands. I can’t even taking a damn shower without bursting into tears and streaking back to bed.

She’s using her sharp voice now: “Sweetie, what’s wrong? What’s going on?” I can’t do it. She’s going to yell, when she finds out I didn’t do anything; she’s going to call me out just like he did. In front of everyone watching, making sure I know just how little I’m worth; just let me have the illusion that I’m worth something for God’s sake! I know I’m a pathetic failure but let me pretend I’m someone worthwhile! Don’t yell at me, don’t – *He’s asking me a question about the homework.

I have no clue, I spent last night studying for last class’ test. “I didn’t do the reading.” He looks at me, unsurprised. “Well then, you aren’t prepared for class. Shouldn’t you leave so you don’t keep your classmates behind with your negligence?” I just sit and stare; I don’t know what to say. Am I even supposed to say anything? He looks at me and says, “I think any student who fails to complete the required homework shouldn’t be allowed to take a class where others’ work hard to learn; do you agree with that?”

I keep staring. Do I agree with that?

Of course not! Everyone said before he walked into class that none of us had done the reading; why is he singling me out? “You haven’t shown any inclination to put any effort into this class at all. I think that someone like you who only cares about finding a husband in college should drop my class. I only teach students who have something worthwhile to offer to the world, and you clearly need to learn a few lessons from them.”

My jaw drops, the tears well up. “Professor, I just- “What? I don’t need to hear your pathetic excuses! If you had done the work you might have had the chance to earn a B in my class; not many girls are willing to take a class this challenging and I think we can all see why from your poor example.” I start crying as I look around at my classmates; they’re all looking back at me silently. No one’s going to stand up to him, no one’s going to report him, not even the one other girl in the class. “I’m – I’m sorry…” “You’re disrupting this class. If you’re going to be this emotional you should drop this class and see a therapist. Although based on the effort you obviously put into the necessary work, you should drop this class anyway.”

I have to escape the yelling, I can’t sit here and be a target for all of this.

No one will help me, no one will believe me, just like with her… no one will ever help me. I can’t breathe, I’m literally choking as my tears fall in my mouth. He gets up and opens the door. I can’t go near him without knowing…there it is, he left his textbook on the table. He’s not holding it. If I run he won’t have time to hurt me. I get my backpack and run. I can’t ever see him again.

He’s right. I’m just a failure and it doesn’t matter how hard I try; I’ll never stop being a failure.* I start crying and shaking; I’m not safe. I can’t feel my legs, I can’t get somewhere safe. Mom is going to yell, she’s coming closer. God please help me, please dear God help me, I can’t have her yell at me, I can’t handle this, please God! She knows I didn’t get anything done today, she knows I’m a failure, she’s coming closer just to yell at me even louder, God protect me please! Mom comes over and sits next to me.

I’m shaking, I’m crying, I want to be strong but I just can’t, I can’t handle her disappointment. I’m in trouble, I need to be in bed, I’m not safe, I’m never safe where they can find me. She envelops me in a warm hug. “It’s ok sweetheart, it’s going to be ok.” I shake even more. “I love you.” I crack. Those words mean I’m not alone. They mean that those people can never hurt me again.

They mean that I’m finally safe.