My dad and I found ourselves sitting on a soft, light-brown couch. In this wooden furniture-themed waiting lobby there was a flat-screen TV on the wall automatically switching between two channels. One was your typical trivia game show where contestants have the opportunity to make thousands of dollars, and the other was a cooking show focused on meal makeovers. The show focused on transforming popular unhealthy dishes into healthy alternatives. I remember they were airing an episode that had the intention of turning breaded chicken into a healthy addition to your diet. Focusing on this show helped calm my emotions for the time being while I anticipated my name to be called. 

It was only a few minutes later that I heard the words, “Is it Kyan?” The flawless pronunciation on the first attempt impressed me since most people fail to understand that it is literally just Ryan with a K. As I proceeded to get off the couch and walk toward the glass door, she said, “We will be in the room straight ahead.” I hesitantly sat on the light-blue chair directly across the entrance, and I began by rapidly tapping my feet on the floor below me, completely oblivious to anything that was not my heart pounding rapidly in my chest or the fever-like body temperature increase at that very moment. My eyes were bouncing around the room, constantly switching focus and analyzing my surroundings. My eyes roamed over the colorful board games on the shelf and the light blue chair with a deck of cards and writing utensils on the table. The smell similar to that of a new book filled my nostrils as I continued to nervously fidget with the tiny clear orbs on my bracelet. My brain was flashing through every possible outcome, so I could mentally prepare myself for all of them. I was directing all of my energy into facing the reality of the situation but it was still out of my reach. It wasn’t until she asked,  “So what brings you here today?” that it finally sunk in; This was therapy. 

The answer to that question was not an easy one, in fact it was far from it. My journey to therapy was one that was almost indescribable because of its substantial complexity. So for the sake of this piece I will attempt to summarize it in the most digestible way possible. It began with me playing the classic role of a Google doctor. A suspicion of a potential mental disorder within myself is what essentially fueled this role. This suspicion stemmed from a sudden change in my everyday behavior. My ability to focus on simple tasks such as school work had decreased exponentially and days that I found myself in a dreadful and depressed state were becoming a common occurrence. As a self-proclaimed overthinker, these slight changes in my personality haunted me. I’d read into every little thing I did to see if it could possibly relate to any disorders I researched. A mental disorder that I was almost one hundred percent sure that I had was ADHD. The instant I read into the symptoms and how identical they were to the negative changes I was experiencing, my mind found its motive. School became a place where I made personal assessments on my behaviors rather than an academic learning resource. The moment I lost focus for a split second in any of my classes it became “THIS HAS TO BE ADHD.” This was not a healthy way to live, and it was unquestionably wearing on me. Teachers were noticing my loss of energy, motivation, passion, and happiness and began to flat-out worry about me. I had these headaches that would occur everyday because I was draining myself to the absolute limit which left me no choice but to speak up. The only issue was that I was terrified of expressing my emotions, particularly to my parents because I feared the idea of taking the next steps.

Many people report being afraid to tell their parents because they do not want to upset them. Sometimes we don’t understand where troubling feelings or thoughts are coming from and feel guilty for having them. (Mental Health America).

Now I am not going to sit here writing this and pretend that my fear wasn't warranted because it most certainly was. I felt like I was in a boundless state of misery with random bursts of happiness. Some days, I felt on top of the world, but on others, I felt like a cave miner who dug himself a little too deep and couldn't return. Sometimes, I would come to school with a completely defeated mindset and simple tasks like walking to class felt like a form of torture. Seeing all of my friends and peers in the halls walking with others while radiant smiles emitted from their faces devastated my self-esteem. I could honestly say that I was jealous of everyone else and their ability to excel in social activities. What I desired most was happiness, which everyone else seemed to have except me. While they were planning times and places to hang out after school, I was home using my piano to cope with my self-insecurities. I used music to hide my pain and temporarily teleport to another world where I was a confident leader. A place where I accepted who I was. A place where I was okay instead of thinking of ways to change myself so I could fit in.

They can't comprehend

Or even come close to understanding him

I guess if I was boring they would love me more

Guess if I was simple in the mind, everything would be fine

Maybe if I was a jerk to girls

Instead of being nice and speaking kind words

Then maybe it would be okay to say then

I wasn't a good guy to begin with (Kid Cudi)

I have recently grasped the idea that a solid amount of people tend to be unnecessarily harsh on themselves. Combine this commonality with terrible overthinking habits and you have yourself a machine that constantly self-degrades itself. Then take that machine and name it Kyan and you have a flawless depiction of who I was. I had trouble accepting and validating my own thoughts, which made it difficult to make progress toward a healthier life. The minute I felt unprepared to commit to an emotionally rigorous task I would tell myself negative things in frustration such as “Why do I have to be so sensitive all the time?” or “Why can’t I ever just talk about my feelings with my parents like a normal kid?” In hindsight, it is quite foolish of me to obsess with the idea of being normal. It's a word that holds an unimaginable amount of power because of its ability to control our personalities. Despite harnessing the knowledge of normal’s power, my brain was attached to it like superglue. Looking back, I would advise that we get comfortable with taking baby steps toward our goals. Instead of wasting time complaining about the things we struggle with we should use that time to develop strategies to make those struggles more manageable. The majority of my issues came from me shooting for the final result instead of taking the smaller steps to eventually reach it. So instead of throwing myself directly into the fire by admitting my concerns to my parents, I started by telling my English teacher. At first glance, this may seem like a strange decision but it eventually proved to be a righteous one.

If you find yourself getting nervous stop and relax for three full breaths. Then take one small step, then another. That is how people get to the top of Everest. (Beck)

Refreshing is the only word I could use to describe my experience discussing my concerns with her. I needed this conversation to feel as casual as it possibly could and that is exactly how it felt. It was like discussing plans with a friend and that aspect of it cleared the overwhelming amount of activity in my mind during this time. The initial conversation planted a seed of conviction in my mind that bloomed beautifully and many more conversations of my worries followed in its footsteps. The way I see it, this was the leader, and any conversation after it was just a follower who replicated its success but the only difference was whom the conversation was with. So I talked to my Spanish teacher and then after that, my counselor as well. As a musician, I thought of these as rehearsals for an upcoming performance. The only thing left to do after these rehearsals was to take this show on the road. That meant taking my emotions and bringing them forward to my parents. I couldn’t harness these feelings much longer and it was time to set them free. Negative notions of insecurity began to flood my brain like a tsunami, and all I could see was my countless hours of preparation washing away. It's safe to assume that the pressure of the moment cut a little too deep. I understood that this was simply part of life and backing down when things are a little rocky is never an option. Just because I despised the very idea of acting on these concerns, it didn’t mean I could just quit. It's important to learn that in this life you will have to do things that you don’t particularly enjoy to succeed. 

Sometimes in life, you do things you don’t want to. Sometimes you sacrifice, sometimes you compromise. Sometimes you let go and sometimes you fight. It’s all about deciding what’s worth losing and what’s worth keeping. (Zart)

The capability of self-talk should not be understated. Using self-talk acted as a personal motivational speaker within me. It was the fuel that made my engine of courage function. I kept reminding myself of who I was and what I have overcome in the past in hopes to enlighten a newfound comfort with this ambitious situation that I have tumbled into. My mind sounded like a broken record saying “C’mon Kyan you got this” and similar to autumn leaves, every single possible thing that could have gone through my mind began to pile up. My mouth was preparing to form words but my throat froze like I was trying to stifle a chuckle. Then I finally broke. “M..m…mom, I think I have A..D..H…D.” A shock of fear and relief travels at rapid speeds down my body starting from my heart and then all the way down to my toes. This feeling is the type that a human could never prepare for. Imagine it as when you wake up in the middle of the night to the feeling of falling. Looking at my mom and her expression of shock sent me into a state where I felt like anything she said would make me physically flinch or cringe because of my uncertainty. 

Boys (13%) are more likely to be diagnosed with ADHD than girls (6%). (CDC)

I can confirm that these feelings are only temporary. Once I initially broke that wall I dreaded breaking for so long, I was able to destroy mountains with ease. Hearing the positive and encouraging feedback from my mom was like being granted the power of invincibility and I was now an unstoppable force. So much so that the instant my dad came back from work later that night, I wasted no time at all to confess. This time I took a deep breath, stood tall, puffed my chest and walked toward the task at hand with a new pep in my step. Now having the ability to push the nerves to the side, I was able to have a long and valuable discussion. When the conversation concluded, I left that living room with a beaming smile on my face. What a tremendous way to end a night. All my worries were no longer solely mine; and they were now shared with the people who cared about me most. Finally, I could get mental assistance and the biggest stressor of my life, at that time, vanished in the span of a single day like magic. 

Studies have shown that simply talking about our problems and sharing our negative emotions with someone we trust can be profoundly healing—reducing stress, strengthening our immune system, and reducing physical and emotional distress (Pennebaker, Kiecolt-Glaser, & Glaser)

All of these emotional tribulations on this rollercoaster of life resulted in something truly special. If it wasn’t obvious enough already, I am referring to therapy. Going into therapy I tried to keep somewhat of an open mind despite my preconceived notions of the practice. My initial hesitancy was born purely from my negative opinions. I used to believe that there must be something "wrong" with me to require therapy. More specifically, this idea that if I participated in therapy, it meant that I was weak and could not handle my own problems. Previously, I relied on my piano playing as a crutch. Music was a shoulder to cry on, and it was an outlet for coping and expression. Whenever I felt overwhelmed by something in my life, I would use the piano as my favorite hiding spot, playing hide and seek from my problems. My therapist made me realize that music can be a healthy coping mechanism, although not in the way I had been using it. She explained that music or any other coping mechanism should be used to calm the initial overwhelming emotional reaction to a situation, allowing for a thoughtful approach rather than simply trying to forget about it. When used incorrectly, people tend to bottle up their emotions which can actually worsen their mental health status in the long term. A question I get often is “How come you never get nervous for your music performances?” I never knew how to answer that question other than to just respond with “I just don’t” but through therapy, I realized that since I heavily relied on music, every performance excited me rather than scared me because my brain was in desperation mode for any expressional opportunity. I was so eager to not just perform but get an opportunity to give attention to my emotions since they were completely ignored.

Bottling up negative emotions like anxiety and anger can disrupt the normal function of your stress hormones called cortisol. This results in lowered immune function and an increased risk of developing a chronic illness. Not expressing your emotions is also a gateway to developing mental health conditions. (Kentucky Counseling Center)

My therapist and I have come to an agreement that I was doing fifty percent of the job. I would use the piano to calm my emotions, but then I would continue to go on with my day rather than address the issue. As a result, I would temporarily resolve the issue, only to have it come back and haunt me in the near future. It was my painkiller in the sense that I would use it to deal with pain rather than cure it. Now that I have made that adjustment, I have positively reinvented myself. My newfound understanding of therapy is that it is simply just a tool to help shed light on your issues. It's a source of confrontation, acceptance, and growth rather than a place of avoidance and stagnation. I stand before you as a victim of ignorance. A victim of unhealthy obsession. A victim of self-hate, but most importantly, I stand before you as a proud therapy patient. If you are still wondering if I ever found out if I actually did have ADHD or depression the answer is no. Why should I be so worried about a diagnosis? They are just names and instead of obsessing over which one I have, I will continue to focus on resolving the mental conflicts. I will no longer care about what others think of me. I will have assiduity in my own lane. If the reader of this could take away anything,  I would ask that’d be this. If they ever find themself in a self-degrading state with the fear of admitting to it, they should know that it is completely normal. As human beings, we experience a boundless amount of emotions and it’s essential that we remind ourselves that it isn’t a reason to give up. I shall move forward in this life by taking any steps necessary despite any obstacles. 

I'll be up-up and away, up-up and away

'Cause they gon' judge me anyway, so, whatever (Kid Cudi)

Works Cited

Beck, Martha N. 

Quote Fancy.

Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. “Data and Statistics About ADHD.” cdc.gov/ncbddd/adhd/data.html.

Cohut, Maria, and Paula Field. “Coping with social anxiety: The dos and the don'ts.” Medical News Today, 30 August 2019, medicalnewstoday.com/articles/326211#1.-Avoid-negative-coping-strategies. Accessed 14 April 2023.

Kentucky Counseling Center. “Why Is Bottling Up Your Emotions Bad for You?”

Mental Health America. “Time To Talk: Talking To Your Parents.” Mental Health America, mhanational.org/time-talk-talking-your-parents. Accessed 4 May 2023.

Parrott, Leslie. “Why We Develop Social Insecurity, and How to Overcome It.” SYMBIS Assessment, 25 August 2021, symbis.com/blog/why-we-develop-social-insecurity-and-how-to-overcome-it/. Accessed 14 April 2023.

Psychology Today. “Why Talking About Our Problems Makes Us Feel Better.”

Zart, Lindy. goodreads.

Kid Cudi. “Man On the Moon” Spotify.

open.spotify.com/track/78T9DulqSBWqkaxczcGBfk

Kid Cudi. “Up Up & Away” Spotify.

open.spotify.com/track/1RUTIdTnFs8lHSc0Zr4UJB