Living with Generalized Anxiety
Photo by Rilee Jackson
I don’t talk about it a lot. And especially not with the whole internet. But now it’s my turn. And only because I think that it’s important to talk about.
When I was a junior in high school I had my first panic attack. I had no idea what was happening- I had been with friends the night before and didn’t sleep enough, and I had lots of coffee with breakfast. I fell asleep in the comfort of my own home while watching a movie, just a friend and I. Our parents were out on the boat. Perfectly normal Sunday afternoon, right?
The next thing I knew I violently awoke- covered in sweat, heart pounding, confused about where I was and what I was doing. I had only been asleep for about an hour, but I had no idea what time it was. I felt nauseous and the sound of the credit scene playing was somehow piercing at this point, even though it was a movie I had watched a hundred times by then. I ran into my bedroom and called my mom at least eight times. Why? I don’t know. I just remember that every time it went to voicemail I panicked even worse.
At this point my friend had been woken up by my hysterics, and realized I needed help calming down, so being the amazing friend she always is, she got me to lie down and put a cold washcloth on my forehead and told me to breathe. Eventually I leveled out, but for the rest of the day I felt like I had just gotten over the flu. I felt absolutely ridiculous.
Since then I’ve learned my anxiety is triggered by a few things that I now try to avoid. Caffeine, sleep deprivation, dehydration, and strangely enough, falling asleep in places other than my own bed (?? yeah I don’t get it either).
It came and it went. For five years it came and it went, and I never saw a doctor. Why?
Because I felt like it was manageable. My anxiety never stemmed from anything I could pinpoint. It was never that easy. I don’t get anxiety from riding a rollercoaster, or getting a piercing, or meeting someone new. I get anxiety if I am listening to the radio in the car and the stations start to static out and change because I’m driving into a different city, and I realize that I won’t be able to listen to the comfort of my own hometown radio stations. I get anxiety if I overthink negative outcomes like loved ones getting a terminal illness. I get anxiety about letting people down, and being a disappointment to others and myself. I get anxiety about writing this, because it has me thinking a lot about anxiety, and I’m worried that thinking about it will send me into a panic.
It came and it went. And then a few months ago, it never went.
My undiagnosed anxiety was beginning to give me chest pains, heartburn, and migraines. Functioning throughout a workday was an unmanageable task. I was working a full time job, working part time on the weekends, and trying to start a photography business, all while moving into a new apartment with my name on the lease. I was strung out.
Finally I decided enough was enough. I was so against being on medication because I told myself that I could just meditate through it and push the thoughts and feelings and symptoms away. Mental illness isn’t like that. Mental illness, like any other illness, should be treated when it begins to affect you physically. So I went to my doctor.
I was prescribed a very low dosage anxiety medication. Reluctant and ironically anxious to start it, I decided to start it the night before my 21st birthday. Bad idea. This particular medication tends to make anxiety worse before it gets better, so the week of my 21st I was a NERVOUS WRECK. But I kept taking it. And guess what happened?
Within two weeks I felt like myself again. I don’t randomly feel drops in my stomach throughout the day, I don’t overthink things I cannot change, and all of my physical symptoms disappeared. Honestly, I was shocked. I didn’t want to believe that I had to rely on medication to keep me stable. That makes me such a hypocrite, because I’m totally about self care and doing things for yourself because you need to, regardless of if others understand it. But putting myself in the situation was a harder pill to swallow (pun intended).
I write this for you, but I also write this for myself. I’ve had a rough few weeks with my anxiety because I decided to stop taking my medicine to see if I could handle it. I couldn’t. And of course, getting back on it was a lot harder for my brain to comprehend the second time around. But now I know that I really do need it to live a happier life, and that’s okay!
A lot of people struggle with anxiety or depression and let it control their lives because of the stigma placed on mental illness. “Suck it up,” “you’re exaggerating,” “we’ve all been sad, you’ll get over it too.” Those people might just be the reason you still couldn’t get out of bed today, or brushing your hair seemed impossible. See a professional and get treated, whether that’s with medication, seeing a psychiatrist, or something else. The world longs to see the side of you that you’ve been hiding.
A lot of people don’t understand anxiety, but unfortunately, a lot of people do. I’m lucky enough to not suffer from depression, which usually accompanies it. I think that has a lot to do with the state of society today, and social media is a big culprit. If you’re reading this and you didn’t understand what it means to have anxiety, I hope I shed a light. If you’re reading this and you already understood, I hope this helps you.
Opening up about yourself is one of the easiest ways to change the world, and it’s the best way to utilize social media these days, rather than plugging yourself into an unlimited supply of bad news and drama. Use these resources to your advantage; don’t let this technology hurt you.
Alright then. That is all (wow, we've got a deep conclusion paragraph up in here!!). I'm sorry there weren't any pictures this time! Next week I’ll just show you pretty pictures, I promise!
-Jamie