I also want to preface this by saying that in my experience, I have found that there is difference between people who feel anxiety over a certain event, and people who live with anxiety. For example, if you have a public speaking presentation, you may feel anxious leading up to the occasion. In most cases, after this certain stressor is over with, you go back to feeling "normal". For people who live with anxiety, like myself, anxiety is a constant feeling that doesn't go away, and you never truly feel "normal". Now, this is not to downplay or speak down about the people who feel anxiety over certain things, I just wanted to clarify the difference, because many do not realize there is one. Everyone has the right to feel how they feel, and there is no right or wrong. Also, I understand that my experience may be different from how other people feel, so I don't want to give off the impression that this is the only way people experience anxiety. This is just my experience.
This is one of the most accurate pictures I have seen that illustrate what it feels like to live with/have anxiety and/or depression. It's not something that appears right away. It starts out small; a little voice in the back of your mind, or a twinge of sickness in your stomach. For many of us, we disregard this as a bad mood, or a passing feeling, But as the days progress, the feeling grows stronger, and stronger. What was once a small feeling is now something you have to consciously try not to think about. It's this aching feeling that gnaws and your mind and body, exhausting every part of you until you feel like you're going to lose your mind. As the feeling grows stronger, it begins to consume you and the feeling of anxiety is all that you know. Nothing feels right, or "normal" and everything feels like the end of the world.
I have found that there is a logical side of viewing the world, and the world I see when I have anxiety. Logically, I know that if I get an 89 on a paper, it is not the end of the world. Anxiously, I feel that, because of this 89, I am not going to get the GPA I need to keep my grant at school, and that I'm not fit to be an English teacher because I can't even write a paper. Many people who don't live with this way of thinking can't understand why something so simple can be blown so out of proportion, and they sometimes think that the person with anxiety is just being dramatic. It's definitely difficult to understand this train of thought, but its not a choice that most people with anxiety have control over.
I can't point to the exact time in my life when my anxiety began, but here is some of what I remember. My parents divorced when I was 8 years old, and I remember being told I was spending a weekend with my father at his house, which was pretty far from my house. From the moment I was told about this trip, until the moment I got to his house, I remember feeling an intensely nervous feeling in my stomach. This, I believe, was around the time of the beginning of my anxiety.
Fast forward to my seventh grade year. I had lots of friends and my seventh grade boyfriend ('cause who doesn't love 12-year-old relationships?!) and everything was wonderful. Except for the fact that there was always this feeling in the pit of my stomach that I couldn't quite understand or explain. I vividly remember a period of time that it was particularly brutal. For whatever reason, I was absolutely terrified to go anywhere. Whether it was my two best friends at the time wanting to go to the mall, or the movies, or my sisters wanting to go to the store, etc., I could not go anywhere without getting sick first. (TMI, I know, but go big or go home with the story telling, am I right?) After that, I was able to muster up the ability to leave, but that always happened first. I can also remember sleeping a lot. Looking back, maybe that was me trying to escape from the feeling that haunted me every second I was awake. It got to the point where, when I was at my friend's house, I couldn't really eat because I felt so sick from the anxiety. This persisted on for a while, but I'm grateful I got over that part of my anxiety (at least for a little while). I continued to be anxious to hang out with people, or to go places well into my eighth grade year. I was always fine once I got where I was going, but the days, hours, and minutes leading up to it were excruciating.
By the end of tenth grade, everything was feeling back to normal. I had just gotten out of an extremely unhealthy relationship (in which I learned what an anxiety attack was, because I had them quite frequently), and I felt really good about my life and where I was. In July, I was flying out to spend time with my sister, brother-in-law and my nephew in Colorado and I was super excited about the trip. But as the date was approaching, that familiar feeling found me once again. This was the first time I said aloud to my mom, "I think I feel anxious." While this is not an uncommon thing for people to say, it was the first time I could identify exactly what I was feeling. This time, however, it only lasted once I got onto the plane, and then I was fine. This made me think that I had finally gotten it under control.
To keep from dragging on for too long, I'll bring you to my freshman year of college. As I had mentioned in my last post, I did not have any friends or a place I felt that I belonged, so I basically weathered my freshman year alone. I did what I had to do, but it felt like I was living life just going through the motions. By my second semester, I was in the biggest slump. I didn't want to get out of bed. I didn't want to go to school. I didn't want to go to work. I didn't want to go out anywhere. I wanted to lay in bed all day and sleep and forget. I was overwhelmed with school and my grades were slipping (something that has never happened to me before) and I was slipping into a depression that would continue for a little while after that. It was dark and lonely, and the anxiety was all that I knew. Because of my grades, I had contacted a woman at school that was listed under the tab, "Academic Support." I thought this woman would help me figure out what I was doing wrong academically, and who would gives me tips on how to improve my work ethic. It turns out that it was something completely different, but I'm grateful every day that I e-mailed this woman. (I'll tell you more about her in my next post. Ooh, cliffhanger!)
The summer after my freshman year wasn't the best. It was filled with a lot of hurt and anxiety which ultimately led to the beginning of my sophomore year of college (don't worry, you're almost done reading! I'm so thankful that you're still with me!) Right before school began, my family received devastating news about my grandmother that absolutely turned my world upside down. This news, paired with my terrible summer and the new school year, lead to the worst bout of anxiety and depression I have faced thus far. Every day, I felt sick. I can remember crying in my car on the way to school, the way home from school, on the way to work, on the way home from work, when I was home alone and when I was laying in bed. I sometimes would sit in the parking lot of the local convenient store, or once I had to take a trip to a museum for school, and I remember feeling so alone because the people I was supposed to meet there ditched me, and I sat in the parking lot and cried. This isn't something I'm necessarily proud of, or that I like to admit because those were times filled with a lot of pain and agony, but I think it's necessary to share the rawest parts of my experience in order to reach some of you some way that have been through something similar. I couldn't eat, sleep or focus. My body was shutting down to the point where it was actually terrifying. Some said that it was all in my head, and that the only reason I felt this way was because I let my mind get too strong, which hurt me because I knew it wasn't like that and that it wasn't my choice. This is not me playing the victim, it was simply the reality.
It felt like I was constantly being hit over the head and in the stomach with a sledge hammer simultaneously, day in and day out. I would go to bed at 3 in the morning, then wake up at 5 a.m, so sick to my stomach with anxiety that I couldn't get back to sleep. I would sit up immediately and try and begin my day in attempt to push the anxiety and depression away. This is something, I learned, that only makes it worse because anxiety and depression demand to be felt. The longer you try and avoid it and try not to feel it, the stronger it gets. It got to the point where I would wake up shaking, with my heart racing and my body cold in the early days of September.
I felt alone and scared, and I was so tired of feeling that way. I remembered the woman I had e-mailed, and I decided that it was time to e-mail her again. I think this is one of the best decisions I have made in my life. She told me that anxiety and depression usually accompany one another when the anxiety gets too strong, and it can become really dangerous. So, I'm thankful I sought her out when I did, because I was well on my way down that path. Thanks to her, I have come a long way from crying in my car. I don't feel so trapped and scared, but I'm still working through it every day.
To this day, I have anxiety over speaking in front of people (weird, because I want to be a teacher), and I absolutely hate it because when I get anxious, my chest gets all red and blotchy, so I constantly have to wear high collared shirts, and scarves because it's super embarrassing. (does that happen to any of you or is my body just super weird?!) But I don't feel my anxiety as strongly as I used to at every given moment, and that, to me, is a small triumph after what I went through previously. It's all a work in progress, but I'm proud of where I am at this moment, though it's not exactly where I want to be.
I also want to say that I'm grateful for my family and my boyfriend for giving me a million reasons to smile in my darkest times. I love you all more than words, you will never know how much you've helped me (knowingly or not).
To those of you who are still reading, thank you. I know this was long, but I hope you learned something from it. If you struggle with anxiety, I hope you see that you're not alone and that it can get better. If you don't struggle with anxiety as much, I hope this gave you a little insight or was informative in some way. I'm thinking of doing a quick post about what I've learned to be some helpful ways to deal with anxiety/depression, so if you'd like me to write about that, let me know!
I appreciate all of you who take the time to read my blog. I say this in every post because I truly mean it and I don't ever want you to forget that. You are the greatest, thank you for all of your support. I hope you enjoyed, and I hope to see you next time!
xo, Taylor
I have found that there is a logical side of viewing the world, and the world I see when I have anxiety. Logically, I know that if I get an 89 on a paper, it is not the end of the world. Anxiously, I feel that, because of this 89, I am not going to get the GPA I need to keep my grant at school, and that I'm not fit to be an English teacher because I can't even write a paper. Many people who don't live with this way of thinking can't understand why something so simple can be blown so out of proportion, and they sometimes think that the person with anxiety is just being dramatic. It's definitely difficult to understand this train of thought, but its not a choice that most people with anxiety have control over.
I can't point to the exact time in my life when my anxiety began, but here is some of what I remember. My parents divorced when I was 8 years old, and I remember being told I was spending a weekend with my father at his house, which was pretty far from my house. From the moment I was told about this trip, until the moment I got to his house, I remember feeling an intensely nervous feeling in my stomach. This, I believe, was around the time of the beginning of my anxiety.
Fast forward to my seventh grade year. I had lots of friends and my seventh grade boyfriend ('cause who doesn't love 12-year-old relationships?!) and everything was wonderful. Except for the fact that there was always this feeling in the pit of my stomach that I couldn't quite understand or explain. I vividly remember a period of time that it was particularly brutal. For whatever reason, I was absolutely terrified to go anywhere. Whether it was my two best friends at the time wanting to go to the mall, or the movies, or my sisters wanting to go to the store, etc., I could not go anywhere without getting sick first. (TMI, I know, but go big or go home with the story telling, am I right?) After that, I was able to muster up the ability to leave, but that always happened first. I can also remember sleeping a lot. Looking back, maybe that was me trying to escape from the feeling that haunted me every second I was awake. It got to the point where, when I was at my friend's house, I couldn't really eat because I felt so sick from the anxiety. This persisted on for a while, but I'm grateful I got over that part of my anxiety (at least for a little while). I continued to be anxious to hang out with people, or to go places well into my eighth grade year. I was always fine once I got where I was going, but the days, hours, and minutes leading up to it were excruciating.
By the end of tenth grade, everything was feeling back to normal. I had just gotten out of an extremely unhealthy relationship (in which I learned what an anxiety attack was, because I had them quite frequently), and I felt really good about my life and where I was. In July, I was flying out to spend time with my sister, brother-in-law and my nephew in Colorado and I was super excited about the trip. But as the date was approaching, that familiar feeling found me once again. This was the first time I said aloud to my mom, "I think I feel anxious." While this is not an uncommon thing for people to say, it was the first time I could identify exactly what I was feeling. This time, however, it only lasted once I got onto the plane, and then I was fine. This made me think that I had finally gotten it under control.
To keep from dragging on for too long, I'll bring you to my freshman year of college. As I had mentioned in my last post, I did not have any friends or a place I felt that I belonged, so I basically weathered my freshman year alone. I did what I had to do, but it felt like I was living life just going through the motions. By my second semester, I was in the biggest slump. I didn't want to get out of bed. I didn't want to go to school. I didn't want to go to work. I didn't want to go out anywhere. I wanted to lay in bed all day and sleep and forget. I was overwhelmed with school and my grades were slipping (something that has never happened to me before) and I was slipping into a depression that would continue for a little while after that. It was dark and lonely, and the anxiety was all that I knew. Because of my grades, I had contacted a woman at school that was listed under the tab, "Academic Support." I thought this woman would help me figure out what I was doing wrong academically, and who would gives me tips on how to improve my work ethic. It turns out that it was something completely different, but I'm grateful every day that I e-mailed this woman. (I'll tell you more about her in my next post. Ooh, cliffhanger!)
The summer after my freshman year wasn't the best. It was filled with a lot of hurt and anxiety which ultimately led to the beginning of my sophomore year of college (don't worry, you're almost done reading! I'm so thankful that you're still with me!) Right before school began, my family received devastating news about my grandmother that absolutely turned my world upside down. This news, paired with my terrible summer and the new school year, lead to the worst bout of anxiety and depression I have faced thus far. Every day, I felt sick. I can remember crying in my car on the way to school, the way home from school, on the way to work, on the way home from work, when I was home alone and when I was laying in bed. I sometimes would sit in the parking lot of the local convenient store, or once I had to take a trip to a museum for school, and I remember feeling so alone because the people I was supposed to meet there ditched me, and I sat in the parking lot and cried. This isn't something I'm necessarily proud of, or that I like to admit because those were times filled with a lot of pain and agony, but I think it's necessary to share the rawest parts of my experience in order to reach some of you some way that have been through something similar. I couldn't eat, sleep or focus. My body was shutting down to the point where it was actually terrifying. Some said that it was all in my head, and that the only reason I felt this way was because I let my mind get too strong, which hurt me because I knew it wasn't like that and that it wasn't my choice. This is not me playing the victim, it was simply the reality.
It felt like I was constantly being hit over the head and in the stomach with a sledge hammer simultaneously, day in and day out. I would go to bed at 3 in the morning, then wake up at 5 a.m, so sick to my stomach with anxiety that I couldn't get back to sleep. I would sit up immediately and try and begin my day in attempt to push the anxiety and depression away. This is something, I learned, that only makes it worse because anxiety and depression demand to be felt. The longer you try and avoid it and try not to feel it, the stronger it gets. It got to the point where I would wake up shaking, with my heart racing and my body cold in the early days of September.
I felt alone and scared, and I was so tired of feeling that way. I remembered the woman I had e-mailed, and I decided that it was time to e-mail her again. I think this is one of the best decisions I have made in my life. She told me that anxiety and depression usually accompany one another when the anxiety gets too strong, and it can become really dangerous. So, I'm thankful I sought her out when I did, because I was well on my way down that path. Thanks to her, I have come a long way from crying in my car. I don't feel so trapped and scared, but I'm still working through it every day.
To this day, I have anxiety over speaking in front of people (weird, because I want to be a teacher), and I absolutely hate it because when I get anxious, my chest gets all red and blotchy, so I constantly have to wear high collared shirts, and scarves because it's super embarrassing. (does that happen to any of you or is my body just super weird?!) But I don't feel my anxiety as strongly as I used to at every given moment, and that, to me, is a small triumph after what I went through previously. It's all a work in progress, but I'm proud of where I am at this moment, though it's not exactly where I want to be.
I also want to say that I'm grateful for my family and my boyfriend for giving me a million reasons to smile in my darkest times. I love you all more than words, you will never know how much you've helped me (knowingly or not).
To those of you who are still reading, thank you. I know this was long, but I hope you learned something from it. If you struggle with anxiety, I hope you see that you're not alone and that it can get better. If you don't struggle with anxiety as much, I hope this gave you a little insight or was informative in some way. I'm thinking of doing a quick post about what I've learned to be some helpful ways to deal with anxiety/depression, so if you'd like me to write about that, let me know!
I appreciate all of you who take the time to read my blog. I say this in every post because I truly mean it and I don't ever want you to forget that. You are the greatest, thank you for all of your support. I hope you enjoyed, and I hope to see you next time!
xo, Taylor
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