The Light at the End of the Tunnel, by Ally

“You’re crazy!” those words, cutting like knives, boiling my blood. I was angry. Not the type of angry you get when you stub your toe, or someone eats your leftovers. This anger ran deep, and it ran dark in such a way I couldn’t see straight. I guess it’s a good thing I had a therapy appointment scheduled, we’d talk more about it then. “Tell me what’s going on. How are you feeling?” the same old words over and over again. How did I feel? What was going on? I couldn’t put into words how I felt, so confused so angry and so miserable but why? I had friends, family who loved me and a house to live in. Something inside of me was broken, like the flame went out and I couldn’t find a match. It was cold and dark all of the time despite having so many things to be happy about and grateful for. The best way I can think to describe it is being in the passenger seat while this darkness was driving the car wreaking havoc on my life and I couldn’t stop it.

I started to hate myself and the way I looked. I started skipping meals and just hiding up in my room. At 15 I looked in the mirror and for the first time I didn’t recognize the person staring back. I was so tired of how I felt and how I looked I spent a lot of time thinking about how nice it would be if I could just end this pain and how much of a burden would be lifted off those around me. I was ruining every friendship and every relationship I had and by junior year, failing almost every class. School counselors called me to the office several times a month with new people to talk to and make sure reputations were kept intact. No matter how loud I screamed for help they just couldn’t understand what I was going through. The principal kicked me out of his office and said I was too dramatic when I reported the bullying I was experiencing. I had never felt so alone and unheard. I reported suicidal and homicidal tendencies and was on a psych leave for about a week before a social worker wrote me a note to go back to school.

I had seen several therapists and psychiatrists and none could figure out what was wrong. I was misdiagnosed and medicated for things I didn’t have, and with things that didn’t work. Medications can be a lot of trial and error for so many. I kept feeling awful and I was hitting road blocks. I felt like I was drowning while people screamed “just stand up, you’re fine!” I hurt all over and needed relief. How could someone feel so many things to such an exaggerated extent? Maybe I was crazy. Maybe they’re right. No, I told myself, something was wrong and you need to fight.

After being miserable in high school, I was looking forward to the college experience. What I quickly learned is that you can’t run away from your own problems. I moved back home and started going to community college. I was afraid of my own shadow and had almost given up until I met a wonderful counselor at school. For the first time, someone heard me, someone wanted to dig deeper and help me. I finally felt a weight being lifted off my shoulders and a sense of relief.

When I was 19-20 years old my counselor referred me to St. Vincent’s outpatient to talk to someone and get evaluated. I was questioned for a few hours and was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder. I cried. I finally had answers that explained everything. I found a new therapist that I clicked with and did the proper therapy for 2 years working on mindfulness skills, stress tolerance, and rewiring my brain. I have generalized anxiety disorder secondary to BPD. After research and discussion, we decided on a psychiatric service dog. I always had a better quality of life with animals around and this was the best treatment aid for me along with therapy.

I went from therapy once or twice a week to now twice a month. I am 5 years clean of self-harm and in recovery from BPD and turn 24 in July. I graduate in May of 2022 with my associates in veterinary technology. I now have stable relationships and a positive group of people I surround myself with. My service dog is one year into his training and has helped me greatly by interrupting anxious tics, alerting to anxiety and panic, mitigating panic and anxiety attacks, and more. I have my independence back and feel whole again.

I was not crazy. I was hurting so badly for so long. My brain was sick. I still struggle with my mental health, I am not “fixed” by any means, but I have seen the light at the end of the tunnel. I came out alive. There is hope and there is absolutely no shame in needing help. I am living proof that it gets better.

What is a service dog?

A service dog is a dog that is task trained to mitigate its handler’s disability. For example, someone with epilepsy or other seizure disorders might have a seizure alert dog to alert them of an oncoming seizure so the person can find somewhere safe to sit or lay down.

You can get a service dog in a few ways: through a program, from a breeder, or from a shelter/rescue. Any breed can be a service dog, even Chihuahuas! However, not every dog is cut out for service work so it’s important to do research and find the dog that best suits your needs. In order to obtain a service dog, you must have a diagnosed disability and recommendation from your doctor. There is no registration or certified required or recognized in the U.S. Those found online are scams and not recognized.

It is important to recognize the difference between an emotional support animal, a therapy dog, and a service dog.

Emotional Support Animals: these are basically just pets that bring comfort to their owners by simply being around them and coexisting. There is no registration or certification recognized for these animals and they DO NOT have public access rights and are only allowed in pet friendly places. A letter from a therapist is often required for housing purposes.

Therapy Dogs: A therapy dog is specially trained and brings comfort and affection to others like in a nursing home or hospital and must tolerate a variety of environments and situations. These dogs do not have public access rights but there may be a certification for them through a program and may be required to be labeled.

Service Animals: Under ADA law, only dogs and mini horses can be service animals. They are specially trained to help one person with their disability through task work. Even mental disabilities such as anxiety or PTSD! These animals have public access rights and go just about anywhere with their hander except sterile environments like an operating room for example. They are not required to be labeled as service dogs and are not required to be on leash if it interferes with a task.