Dear Diary

Hello everyone,

Before I start writing away on here, I want to let anyone who is might be reading this that this is for you as well as for me, to share my story, and to let people know they're not alone.

I want to introduce myself a little but not completely. I'm a 24 year old female born in Glendora, California raised West Jordan, Utah. My family is from Mexico. So yes! I am a fully Latina. I was raised in the old fashion Mexican culture. You know like "You're not allowed to move out the house until marriage" or "You're not allowed to have sleepover at anybody house." or the most popular one asking for permission to go out with friends no matter what age you are. You could be 30 and still be needing to ask for permission if you're still living in their home.

Anyways not too long ago I made a decision, to start writing again. See growing up I always kept a journal around me. At the end of my day, I would lock myself in my room, put on headphone, and get lost in the my playlist while I wrote about my day. It would make me feel better especially when I was feeling down or upset that day. When I turn 20 I stopped writing due to having severe depression. I didn't want to do anything. I felt like a loser who wasn't loved. I felt like a disappointment to my whole family and friends. Now that I’ve reached 24, last year was really rough and I'm sure most can relate when pandemic hit. My life before the pandemic was great! Got into phlebotomy, I got hired at a company I loved, got to meet new friends, traveled, and made connections. In the middle of the pandemic. I left my job I loved. Got hired a Research Clinic for a bigger opportunity but I regretted right after. I've never experience such a toxic work place! At first it was fine but as time went by it got worse and worse. I ended up getting fired and ever since I haven’t been the same. It's gotten so bad to the point where I fell back into depression but this time I developed severe anxiety. At first I thought I had a lung problem. I went to get it check and was told I was fine. Two months later I took a depression and anxiety test. Turned out I have depression but extremely severe anxiety. They explained to me that my anxiety was the number one thing causing tightness on my chest and giving me hard time breathing. I can be in my car alone driving somewhere and be thinking about how I'm going to pay my bills without a job and out of no where I'm overthinking causing myself a panic attack to the point where I need to pull over to get out of the car to catch my breath.

No body in my family knows not even my boyfriend, I made the decision to not tell them. I know it probably not healthy to keep a secret but I believe for now it's for best. I believe it’s for the best because I tired of everyone looking at me like fragile or something that need to be fixed. I’m so tired of feeling sad all the time for no reason. I wouldn’t rather find way to eliminate my anxiety by find new hobbies or meditation. Something to distract my mind from overthinking all the time. So that is I rather not tell everyone because I do not want to seem weak anymore.