So I thought I would share my story with my own “mental health” issues or more specifically my battle with anxiety. I guess my story could be a lot worse and that’s something I should be thankful for.
It’s hard to start somewhere because you can never pin point when it “started”. From as long as I remember, I guess I always did have that “anxious” personality. My mind always did, and still does, jump to the worst case scenario. The first time I was “diagnosed” with an anxiety disorder was in year 12, about 4 years back. At that time, I had hardly any idea about mental health or anxiety. I was having panic attacks. To those of you who haven’t experienced a panic attack there’s hardly any way to explain it that can highlight exactly how having a panic attack feels. Plus, each experience is probably different for each individual anyway.
Throughout that these 4 years I’ve been diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder, panic disorder with agoraphobia and depression. I like to think that panic disorder was probably the correct diagnosis. Most of the time I felt “depressed” about having anxiety that severe that prevented me from living my life. I guess it’s easy to see how these two diagnoses go hand in hand.
At what I would call my worst I would fear leaving my house; mostly in fear that I would have a panic attack. For me and I’m sure for many other suffers, home is “safe”. I tried my hardest to go out because I knew that each time I stayed home I would just re-enforce my anxiety, but mustering up the courage to do so was difficult. I remember on one occasion having to go to a friend’s house. A simple task right? Not really, I was petrified. It took me a good hour to leave the house, as I had to calm myself down and feel “ok” enough to go.
There’s many things anxiety has prevented me from doing and even if I do the things I want, the experience is hardly ever anxiety-free. I once tried Bikram Yoga (for those who haven’t heard of that before, it’s basically doing yoga in a really hot room). That sensation of feeling hot and sweaty led to a panic attack. I know it was me over-analysing and misinterpreting the symptoms, but I will never try that again. I’ve never done a class at my gym for that reason either.
Catching public transport is difficult too and I prefer to drive myself everywhere. I don’t like to let my friends drive either. Much of this has to do with me being in control. Not the crazy controlling “do as I say” type, but knowing that I have my own car there, gives me my reassurance that I can leave whenever I want. I guess for me, my car is my other safe place. Going to work has been difficult on a number of occasions. I remember having a panic attack and having to be sent home because I could not bring myself to stop crying after it.
Another thing I remember is crying after every panic attack. After each panic attack I’d feel like I’d failed. Anxiety had won that time. There are times when things didn’t always get blown into a full-on panic attack but I’d almost always feel like I was on the verge of having one. This is why I had to drive everywhere and this is why I had to stay home. Not to mention how physically exhausted you’d feel after having one. It’s such an intense time of arousal that afterwards I’d feel like I had run a marathon and just wanted to go to bed. Of course I would hardly sleep because it’s difficult to when you’re mind is running in over drive. Then getting up and trying to function on little sleep would make my anxiety worse. For some reason not getting enough sleep would scare me and make me feel on edge. In most cases, this would lead to a panic attack. It really was an endless cycle. Working myself up meant I was more likely to have a panic attack. But what was I worried about? About having a panic attack of course. The whole thing seems irrational…probably because it is! Writing it all down makes it really seem like the problems aren’t problems at all. Although trying to reason with yourself at such a time is difficult. Most of the time having someone who acts as the voice of reason helps and often that can only be my mum or brother. However, my mum and brother can’t be with me 24/7 to be that voice of reason and I have to learn how to do that on my own. Easier said than done!
There are only select people I feel ok having a panic attack in front of. This mainly has to do with the fact that I know they’ll take me home if I ask them to, or they won’t judge me for it. Judgment is one thing I didn’t realise was honestly so prevalent and the stigma of mental illness is very much alive. I try to be as open as I can about my anxiety, just so people know what’s going on in case I do have a panic attack in front of them. Yet, people still manage to judge. I really believe that unless you’ve been through something similar, you’ll struggle to understand.
This entry doesn’t seem like I’ve done how I felt justice, but I’ve never been one to openly express my feelings without being pushed. I hope someone finds some similarities in their own similar experiences. Leave a comment and share your experiences? Or, feel free to ask me a question. I’m sure we’ve all had experiences that we can relate to and I’m sure we can build an amazing support network. We just need to be courageous enough to speak.
Nicole's Notes 