My carefree attitude and lifestyle soon came to a halt in the fall of 2003. Jacob and I went to the movies one night to see a horror flick entitled "Gothika." I'd always been a fan of scary movies, and assumed this one would be like every other cheesy horror movie I'd seen. But it wasn't. As we left the theatre that night, I remember feeling very uneasy. Something just wasn't right. Later that same night, I had my first panic attack. I didn't tell anyone, and thought I was going crazy. I didn't think anyone could understand. I soon began spending most of my waking hours either in class or at home studying and self-medicating with Nyquil so I could sleep. Every thought, every worry became a "what if" and soon turned horrible. My mind was in a state of almost constant fear and panic. Who am I? What am I doing here? What will happen when I die? These questions were constantly floating through my head, and I began to analyze them so deeply that it would always end in fear and panic. I was depressed. I rarely ate, got sick to my stomach often, and lost about 10 pounds. For two semesters, I made straight A's in all of my classes. In the fall of 2003, I took a trip to New York City with my mom and aunt. Jacob decided to join us. It was the worst trip of my life. I tried my best to ignore the anxiety and panic, but it was always there. That fear was inescapable. I was so happy to return home. After several more months of panic attacks and unhappiness in the Spring of 2004, I finally decided to reach out. I can remember calling my mom from the bathroom of a restaurant on a Spring Break trip to the beach. I didn't know what to do, and she could hear the fear and helplessness in my voice. She told me I had to get help, to go see someone. So I did. When we got home, I set an appointment with the Mental Health department at the LSU Student Health Center. I saw someone who seemed to understand, I cried a lot, and he prescribed me Zoloft. I was doubtful that it would help, but he assured me that panic attacks are common and that I wasn't alone. Several weeks later, I was a new person. The attacks had subsided, and my head felt clear for the first time in months. I decided that I wanted to get out of town for a while, and applied for the exchange program through LSU. Jacob didn't understand, and neither did I really. I don't know what made me do it...I had been so depressed for so long, and just needed to escape my surroundings. I was accepted to the national student exchange program, and chose to go to California State University at Northridge, just north of Los Angeles.
After several months of planning and a big going away party, Jacob, my mom, and I set out on our road trip to California. I found an apartment with two other girls from the exchange program who I'd never met. We had fun along the way, taking 4 days to make our trip and sight see. I soon settled in to my new apartment, and mom flew home. Jacob stayed a few extra days and we explored Los Angeles. He then flew home, and I began my semester in California.
I found a part-time job at Billabong at Universal Studios. Jacob flew out often to visit. I turned 21 there, and began going out frequently in L.A. with my roommates. We were having the time of our lives, and I tried to forget my life back home and all the people in it. I wanted independence, freedom, and this was my chance. I surfed, partied, and mingled with celebrities. I was disloyal once again, and I could tell Jacob wasn't happy with me. He brought me back down to earth and reminded me who I was and where I came from. He was angry with me...and I deserved it. After several months of trying to be someone I definitely was not, it was time to go home. I was thankful that he was still there...that once again, he forgave me and let me back in his life when I truly did not deserve it.
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