You know how they say owners start to look like their dogs? Well, it must be the same thing with mental illness because my dog and I both have anxiety. I’ve had low-grade anxiety since I was in high school, but it got worse in college as I tried to do it all — get straight A’s, work 30 hours a week, have a personal life, etc. Eventually I just broke down. Since then, I’ve taken steps to deal with my anxiety, and one of the things that has helped the most is my dog, Raylee.

I’m sitting at my laptop staring at the phone number on my screen, my heart racing. I can’t imagine anything worse than having to pick up the phone and call someone — anyone —much less calling someone about getting help. Not wanting to make calls is part of my social anxiety, so having to call someone to get help for anxiety seems like a cruel joke.

I have always been attracted to stressful jobs. Nothing can beat the rush you feel when the odds are stacked against you, and everyone is counting on you to pull through to get to done. Some people might find this kind of pressure absolutely terrifying, but for me, it’s the only way I know how to work. Deadlines are only one of the many contributors to the birth of my stress-induced anxiety – which has both helped and hurt my career.