It's that time again-time to fall apart and slide into a mental black hole for a while. Dear readers, there are many things I've shared with you, but this one is going to be the hardest. However, I feel it is necessary because chances are, many of you have suffered from similar issues, so I'll expose myself at the hopes of you benefiting.
I've always been anxious. I don't remember, even as a child, not having thoughts that make my stomach drop and make me feel terrified inside. I always inherently knew that I was "off" somehow. "Normal" people don't worry this much about these things-right? That's the thing-it could be anything that would cause me internal grief. Thankfully, my mother was a natural therapist and could soothe me and bring me back to earth, and put a smile on my face...until the next time I would come to her crying about my latest anguish.
My senior year of high school it truly became unbearable. As I obsessed over my future and every minute detail down to the things I typed on college applications with great dread and imaginging all the ways in which I could fail, I was really not okay. I remember getting home from school one day and telling my mother point blank "I want to die". Why would you want to live if all you ever did was worried, where every life event would a horrible outcome (or so I had convinced myself)? I went to a therapist for the first time ever and gradually came out of it, but those few months were pure hell. I lost a lot of weight and because I had a perpetual knot in my stomach day after day from all of the thoughts.
Freshman year of college comes. I fall apart again. This time, I start taking medication for it, and am officially diagnosed as having an "generalized anxiety disorder". I am pretty stable for the next year or so and it feels as if it's gone away.
The thing I've learned is, it's always there, waiting to come out again. I'll have a "good year" or more even, and then, here I am, a scared sad little girl. The "bad" spells are usually caused by a series of events. It's hard to eat and sleep, and want to go into hiding. I'm back seeing a therapist and upping my dose of meds temporarily. I'm forced to admit to myself, these bad nerve racking thoughts, doubts, the sadness, never fully went away, they just didn't happen as often. Things were just much more bearable. And at what cost?
Fortunately, no matter how miserable I was, it took next to no toll on school or work. In fact, work and tasks to complete help keep me sane. However, there becomes a larger gulf between the person I am and the person I would like to be. It's hard to step outside of my own mind and worries to care about others and truly appreciate their company. I haven't been the best friend, daughter, or girlfriend at times. I don't value and treasure things the way that I should. I feel terribly guilty and frustrated knowing there are many many people out in the world completely suffering lacking clean water and facing regular violence and here I am making things up to worry about. I have to take medication that has unpleasant side effects; I sleep more than I would like, my legs randomly twitch at times, and sex is not what it should be, and that's the best medication I've been on. Others were much worse. I wasn't able to go on a study abroad trip in college I worked hard planning for. Everyday life is really challenging when the fear takes over. Eating a meal with someone else or having a meeting at work is scary-"what if I throw up? What if I embarass myself?" These are just recent thoughts-the worries change.
People I'm close to and others who I feel like would be understanding know. However, there are plenty of people I fear knowing because they will judge. They will see this as a sign of weakness and think I'm weird or not the person they thought me to be. And really am I?
Over the past 6 years, medication has proven critical to managing the anxiety and accompanying depression. It lessens the amount and intensity of the anxious thoughts. Everyday when I take my medication, my brain chemistry is being altered. I hate taking medication. I tried to stop taking them during the summer of 2010, and slowly weaned myself off of them with doctor guidance. Within 3 weeks of being med free, I was falling apart again.
I like to think that as I age, I'll get better at dealing with it all, and perhaps one day, I'll be able to manage the anxiety naturally. For now, I've figured out the following:
-Exercise is key to my well being. No medication cocktail will be able to take the place of regular physical activity.
-Some periods of time and situations will be bad, but eventually, things will get better again.
-Having a therapist I connect with is essential to make it through the tough times.
-Temporarily increasing my medication and cutting back down helps me during the low points.
-Getting out and spending time with friends helps me re-focus my attention away from the stress.
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