Freshman year during study hall, I was doing my homework while I waited for the bell to ring, excited for the end of the school day. While doing homework, I heard the phone ring. Most of the time, the calls do not have to do with me, but this one did. The secretary on the phone asked me to go to the counseling office. One-hundred things started to run through my head: what now?  Am I in trouble?  Did I do something wrong?

When I walked into Mrs. Brinckman’s office, I began to tense up, and hold my breath. She greeted me with a smile, “Hello, please take a seat.” She was welcoming, genuine, and understanding. She had mid-length blond hair and a nice, big smile. Mrs. Brinckman was the psychologist of Arrowhead Union High School.

When I sat down, she told me someone talked to her about how I’ve been feeling lately. I only had a few friends at the time and I would share about how I’m feeling with them. One of my friends told Mrs. Brinckman about the conversations we had that concerned them, which resulted in the phone call to the study hall. I was upset at first, but now, I’m glad she did because I was able to meet up with Mrs. Brinckman and talk to her about how I’m feeling. She helped me better understand my mental illnesses (depression and anxiety).

I would also talk with her about my depression and how I felt about it. She would talk me through it and try to explain to me what depression and anxiety was and what happens in the brain when you have it, which was helpful and beneficial to me. I felt more comfortable with talking to people about how I feel, and I was glad that I knew someone that could help me get better. Now that I understand my mental illness more, I was able to come up with solutions as to how I can cope with it. One of the main questions was whether having depression was normal.  She told me it wasn’t and it would help if I did counseling weekly and took medicine to help with it. Eventually I started to go to counseling once a month and took a medication daily, it ended up benefiting me and helping me feel better about myself.

By the time the bell rang, getting ready to head out the door, she said, “You can always stop by if there’s anything you want to talk about.”  

It was nice to see that someone cared, but did she really? She had me come into her office once a week to talk to her about how things are going and if anything has gotten better. She was like a second mother. I began to feel that she did care, and it was nice to get some things off my chest. Thank you, Mrs. Brinckman for being there for me, thank you for helping me get better, and thank you for helping me understand myself more.