I stand up and take deep breaths. I look at the mirror on the wall and wipe the tears from my eyes. I'm hoping it's Rose and she just forgot her key. I don't want to face anyone right now but I'd rather face her than one of our other friends. I went to the door and slowly opened it. Standing in front of me is Josh.

"Hey," he says, "Nice piggy. What's his name?" He points to my pig stuffed animal that I was holding during my panic attack. I forgot to put him down when I went to open the door. "Wilbur. Now, what do you want?" I ask with absolutely no personality. He steps closer to me and touches my arm like the first time we met. But, this time I don't feel excited and nervous about a guy touching me. I feel broken and alone. I feel the tears coming back. He says, "Genny, I wanted to come over and see if you were okay. I'm sorry about what happened."

I say, "Please leave me alone, Josh." He says quietly, "You called me Josh," as if that's an insult. I step closer to him making him step back until he's outside my room and I begin to shut the door. As the door closes, I hear the words, "You're not damaged goods, Genny."

About an hour goes by and I'm lying in my bed listening to Disney Channel Original Movie Music trying to make myself feel something other than pain and loneliness. But no High School Musical or Lemonade Mouth or even Camp Rock music can make me feel better right now. I hear the keys hit the door and know Rose is home.

I don't greet her when she comes in. I just close my eyes and lay there listening to music. Listening to the words, "There's always gonna be another mountain. I'm always gonna wanna make it move. Always gonna be an uphill battle, but sometimes I'm gonna have to lose." I never thought the words of Hannah Montana could lead me to break out into tears, but it happens. I begin to cry. A lot.

Rose stops unpacking her books from her bag and comes up to me and immediately hugs me. I cry into her shoulder. In addition to all the terrible thoughts I already had, now I feel guilty for making her have to support me all the time. This isn't the first time she's hugged me while I cry. I feel like a burden.

"I'm sorry, Rose," I say to her through tears. "I didn't tell you the truth." She says, "Genny, whatever it is, it's okay." I step out of her hug and go to my desk drawer. I take my antidepressants and anxiety medications out of the bag I store them in. I continue to cry and say, "I secretly take my pills every day when you're not looking. Rose, I'm sick. I have been for a long time and I don't mean physically. Rose, I have chronic depression and anxiety. "

I look at her anxiously waiting for a response and she says, "Wait, seriously?" I say, "Yes, seriously." She says, "I'm so relieved!" "Wait, what?" I say in an extremely confused tone. "I'm not saying I'm happy you have depression and anxiety. But, it's important you know, I also have depression and anxiety. I didn't want to tell you because there's such a negative stigma surrounding mental health, but I knew at some point I would tell you because I do trust you. And I'm so happy you trust me."

I'm literally shocked and I say, "Wait, you actually understand what I'm going through?" She says, "Yes. We obviously have different histories and stories, and no one with mental health conditions goes through the exact same things. But, I've gone through a lot. I was on medications for a long time. I still talk to my therapist 1-2 times a month, but I always have her on speed dial in case I have a panic attack or severely low day. I also use an app to track my emotions daily. I still sometimes get help; everyone needs help sometimes. Now, if you're comfortable, tell me what's going on. If not, that's okay. You should never feel pressured to share what you don't want to. "

I begin to tell her about the last few years of my life. I don't tell her what the initial cause of everything was. I act as if the beginning isn't important. So, over a few hours of time, we talk. Actually, it was more like, I talked and she listened and supported me. Some of what I said was, "I was in public school until my sophomore year. That was the year everything changed. I began to be homeschooled by professional teachers my school district hired. I had a 504 plan which sounds fancy but it was really like a contract where the school has to support me and provide me accommodations because depression and anxiety are considered to be disabilities. "

I went through the high school years and end up talking more about college and present life, "School has been amazing. It's made me feel so independent sometimes, but other times I feel like I'm a little kid who can't handle them. I know I'm literally little, but I'm not a kid anymore. Being at Geneseo has truly made me happier than I have ever been, but it also makes my hard times much worse to deal with. I had a panic attack and I haven't had one in a long time and it scared me so much. It made me feel paralyzed and filled with pain and I hate it. I hate it so much."

Sometimes, I cried while telling my story to Rose. Other times, I laughed. At certain points, we laughed together. I've never opened up to a friend about all of this. I'm so happy I did because Rose is a great friend and she understands what I'm going through. We get a very late dinner and then begin talking again before bed. This time she told her story. She went to a strict Catholic school which gave her a great education, but her friends weren't supportive of her. They made her second choice in a lot of situations. She felt alone when surrounded by people who said they loved her. I truly understood what she meant and how she felt - alone when surrounded by people. It's a terrible feeling.

It's 1 in the morning and we decide we should get some sleep. Before we do, Rose says one last thing, "Since you can't see your therapist in person, maybe you should go see a therapist at the Health Center on campus?"

"That's a good idea. I'll call tomorrow morning and see if anyone's available to see me in the afternoon," I say.

"Hey, Rose?" I say. "Yeah, Genny?" she says. "I'm so glad we're best buds!" I say. "Genny? Did you just make a rose pun? Seriously?" she says. "Well, someone had to lighten the mood!" I say and we both begin to laugh and then decide to actually go to bed.

Before I fall asleep, I think of how proud I am of myself for making this decision. And I can't imagine anything bad coming out of me seeing a new therapist.

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Author's Note:

Hi everyone! I hope you're enjoying "Genny's Freshman Year at Genny." I wanted to make a note at the end of this chapter telling you all you are not a burden because you let someone comfort you when you're upset or having a panic attack. You are not a burden and will never be. Please don't think that in any situation. If you ever need to vent about something that you feel no one else will listen to, PM me. I'll try and be the best support I can be.

I wish you all the best during this difficult time.

Stay safe, happy, and keep wattpadding! :)

Xo, Dara