My time at this college hasn’t always been very successful. In fact, school in general for me has always been difficult and painful. Not a single one of the 13 years I spent in school prior to college ended well, in fact I barely graduated high school at all.

The problem was, starting from a very young age, I thought I was stupid and it all stemmed from my inability to understand math. I was very behind and people in my life who were there to help me didn’t have the tools to do so. Mostly they were lacking in patience. So, instead of being calm and rational with me, there was mostly pushing, punishing and hair pulling.

Most egregious of all was the tendency to use taunts in hopes to “inspire” me to rise above and prove myself. These taunts included asking me if I was stupid, or lazy, or if I needed to get tested for learning disabilities, as if having a learning disability was something to be ashamed of.

Shame and anxiety began color my life and after years of these tactics, they took over completely. School was a struggle in all subjects and as I got older, so was life in general. Most kids were focused on getting ahead and getting into college while I was just trying to make it to tomorrow.

Mixed in with all of this was the fact that I have pituitary dwarfism along with a partial facial paralysis I’ve had since birth and an eye twitch on the “good” side of my face from a head trauma. I was a walking target for bullies and an oddity for everyone else. If I wasn’t being physically, or verbally dominated by my bullies everyone else was asking me why I was so small, why did only half my face work, or asking to pick me up.

To avoid all of this, I spent lunch hours in the bathroom, tucked away into a stall with the door locked writing short stories and screenplays where the main character was me, only taller, with a better face and a smarter mind.

Starting college in 1999, I was lost and empty. I didn’t feel like I had the intelligence to be here and worst of all, thanks to my bullies, I felt like a deformed freak. I only went, because my parents insisted on it and had paid all my tuition as a way of closing any further discussion on the matter.

Most of my semesters ended with me dropping out by mid-terms. There are semesters here and there where I actually finished with decent grades, but for the most part, I couldn’t concentrate in class, or focus on school work. I felt like at any moment the security guards would come bursting in to drag me out saying it was all a mistake, they had never meant to accept me, I was too stupid, get out.

I didn’t need security guards to drag me out. Eventually I dropped out completely. I just wasn’t able to cope with it anymore.

From there I worked and told myself I didn’t need school, because I was an artist and a writer. I worked dead end jobs in the food service industry and spent all my money shopping, filling theholes in my soul with material possessions. Eventually I moved on to drinking and drank myself into a very deep, very dark hole.

Life got so bad, my favorite after work hobby was to stroll through Walgreens, drunk, buying candy while scoping out the over the counter allergy medicine wondering how many pills it would take to end all this misery.

Then I saw a TED Talk by author Andrew Solomon. His talks about depression saved my life. I realized I wasn’t stupid, or lazy, I was depressed and anxious. I saw a picture of myself and my life painted perfectly through Solomon’s own story and of the others he spoke of.

From there my life turned around. I stopped drinking and took singing and acting lessons again, something I had done as a child, but stopped when the bullying made me feel too ugly and self-conscious. I had to cut out people in my life who perpetuated my destructive habits and thought processes and used podcasts to fill that space.

That was where I fell in love with journalism and began to put it together that between my love for writing, storytelling and the news, I could actually have a career and life as a functioning adult.

And so here I am. The fall 2015 semester was my first semester back as a journalism student and not only did I finish the semester, I earned straight A’s.

As much as I want to tell you everything has been peachy and lovely ever since, I can’t. I still have depression and I still have anxiety and they still nip at my heels. Some days, I still fear they may overtake me.

In fact, that’s why I’m writing this. Not just to share with you my own personal story, but to introduce you to a series I will be writing covering mental health and college. I am not alone in this.

Many of you, regardless of your age, background, or current station in life, suffer the same as I do. Maybe you have other mental health struggles like PTSD, bi-polar disorder, schizophrenia, or just need to acknowledge you have self-esteem issues.

Whatever it is, I am here to reach out and let you know you don’t need to be ashamed, to struggle alone, or be held back. There is help for you right here at Madison College and there is hope in its community.

Editor’s note: This is the first of an occasional series on mental health that will appear throughout the school year.