Have You Ever Had A Doctor Tell You Your Mental Illness Is A Choice?

I would like to donate this post to my Uncle Chris; for always being my fan, always making me feel loved and supported no matter how bad of a chapter I was going through, and for always seeing my worth.


When I was in 9th grade my anxiety had reached a whole new level that it prevented me from going to school on a day to day basis. Instead of attending school each day I was part of a program called “Home Tutoring”, which is a program meant for children with a serious medical condition that requires them to be absent from school for an extended period of time.

Instead of attending classes all day with my classmates I was taught by my teachers after school hours on specific days a week in the local library. For example, I would meet with my Math teacher on Tuesday evenings, and then on Thursday evenings I would meet with my English teacher.

As most things in life do, I was required to have a specific Doctor’s approval to be apart of this program. I was required to go to a school recommended psychologist instead of my family physician who was in control of my treatment at the time.

It was a very short appointment. I sat there nervous, quite, and very ashamed, with my mother next to me and the Doctor asked me the typical basic questions for some who has anxiety and depression. I remember that feeling well. Everyone treating you like there is something wrong with you and needing to look at the floor because if you look up a panic attack could be there waiting for you. We were maybe in the appointment for ten minutes before he finished up his questions, put down his pen, and looked at me across his desk.

That’s when the dick said,

“You know, you’re never going to go anywhere in life if you keep acting like this, right?”

That’s a really fucked up thing to say someone who is sick, and that’s an extremely fucked up thing to say to a 14 year old who can’t breath, stand, sit, or talk without feeling like she’s utterly slowly painfully dying and all the beautiful light, peace, and safe spots in life are being ripped away from her as she tries to cry for help.

To all of my readers who suffer or have suffered with anxiety and depression.

  • This is NOT “all in your head”
  • You are NOT “doing this to yourself”
  • I know it’s not easy, but you WILL heal
  • You are NOT “crazy”
  • You are some of the strongest people I know, (even if I have never met you), because living every day with a battle in your head is far from easy and I admire you for choosing to get up and fight it with your amazing and beautiful strength

And last but not least.

  • Fuck anyone who thinks otherwise

We don’t blame a cancer patient for getting a tumor on their lung, do we? Nor do we blame someone who is lactose intolerant for not having the enzymes in their body to digest dairy. So why do people think it’s okay to look at people with mental illness like the brain is irrelevant to human functioning and that it couldn’t ever possibly have an issue such as chemical imbalances…unlike all our other organs.

I have spent most of my life being looked down upon for my anxiety. I have spent my whole entire life being told I was not going to amount to anything, (unfortunately that Doctor was not the first, or even last, person to have said that to me).

I have spent my whole life not being trusted by a lot of people because they don’t believe that I can make a good and trusted decision in life, (even if I was succeeding). Extended family members would saw me as weak would insult my father at the vacation dinner table because I would be upstairs reading, instead of at the dinner table, because an activity like that was too much for me to handle that day.

To everyone who has ever told you any of those horrible things, tell them to kiss your ass. You’re a fucking warrior. I pray you know that about yourself. These people insulting you know what it’s like to get a head cold, have the flu, or break a bone. But they have NO idea what it’s like to feel like you’re dying while you’re laying on the bathroom floor and your brain won’t let you yell for help. Screw them, because not understanding is NOT an excuse to be an ass hole.

Their opinion is irrelevant. And you are not alone.

No matter how many people have those awful opinions, know that there are five more people to their one shitty self, who know the truth, believe in you, and know that this is very real and that you are trying your absolute best.

Cheers to the family members who would then leave the vacation dinner table because they weren’t going to sit by and listen to someone talk shit about their niece.

I, Melanie Boyajian, will always be that person for you.

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