ARTICULATING ANXIETY

Generally, people get anxious. Nothing is guaranteed in life, and that means we have to take risks and that makes us nervous. What if it doesn’t pan out? What if you’re left worse off? What if, what if, what if?

But in most cases, those fears aren’t all consuming and can be contained. According to The Recovery Village, an addiction resource with multiple rehab centers located in four states, “When it comes to generalized anxiety disorder in adults, it was reported that an estimated 6.8 million adults are affected during a year.” However, there’s a difference between having worries and being anxious.

Worries are directly connected to things happening in your life. Anxiety has no basis, it’s irrational. The Anxiety Centre describes it as a “a fear of impending doom,” which is frankly ridiculous, making it even more disconcerting that it’s a perfect analogy.

I’ve been mentally ill since childhood, and, I mean, no one is going to tell a 7-year-old girl that her brain is a little funky.

One Backdropper’s experience having Generalized Anxiety Disorder.

BY KIRSTEN ABBEY DESIGN BY CARMEN CHAO

Truthfully, most people didn’t even notice until I no longer had the protection of childhood for my oddity.

When I was kid, I used to hide under the covers to not be detected when, I thought, inevitably, a murderer would break into our home and kill my entire family. I thought this was something other kids did, and to this day I am not sure whether they did or not.

I also used to choose the bed farthest from the door on vacations so I would be last to die if an intruder broke in, which I am aware is horribly morbid. Most of my childhood fears centered around dying, its consequences and a lack of control.

Why was I experiencing existential dread when I was like 6 or 7 years old? Again, I am at a loss if these thoughts were normal, or if I’ve been so invested in my own individualism that I’m overanalyzing my habits.

During my senior year of high school, I was diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder (GAD) and prescribed antidepressants. I was never recommended for therapy. The pills helped, but not without their own side effects, of which no one told me about.

Anyone on antidepressants can say that they don’t magically make your illness go away. It’s not like I suddenly stopped feeling on edge around other people, or staying awake all night dreading the next day, week or year. Or from having continuous dreams where my dad dies. Or from picking at my skin until it bleeds. Or from having anxiety attacks that have no basis or cause.

I just have the overwhelming notion that something bad is happening and there’s no air in my lungs, which feels so dramatic that I’m a little embarrassed. To top it off, the longer I’m on medication, the less it works.

In middle school, GAD began to affect my relationships to the extent that I struggled to form connections with others. This remains true today. To be completely transparent, I don’t really care about what the general public thinks about me. But with the people I consider my friends, of course I value their perceptions of me.

Human beings crave the presence of others, even those like me who prefer to limit those interactions. No one wants to be completely alone. But with that sense of doom dogging at my heels, it feels as if I take the slightest misstep with people, it’s over. One misread social cue, and I’m obsessing over whether I’m a bad person.

In every case I feel that I am the problem, and frankly I’m getting sick of apologizing for things that are not my fault. It makes me feel pathetic, both for my lack of faith in my friends but also in myself.

I even doubt my own perspectives. This is how I feel, but are my descriptions too superficial, or too blatant? Should I include this, or leave it out? Am I conveying my message properly? Am I representing my mental illness or dumping my trauma on readers? I am ashamed of my indecisiveness. It’s crazy. I feel crazy. Society, and I, must accept that nobody with anxiety is crazy for having it. Half the time the people around us don’t treat the issue with any sincerity. People don’t understand the vital difference between worry and anxiety. People refuse to understand that there is no calming myself down or working through my problems rationally. I could walk through my concerns step by step, there could be a logical solution to whatever the problem is and it wouldn’t stop me from repeating my mistake again and again in my mind until I want to scratch my skin off. At that point, our feelings become an inconvenience.

In my experience, it can be even more invalidating when on medication. If I have an attack, or a concern or I just have a bad day, some people who know I take meds will ask me if I took them that day. With no consideration for what I’m describing, they essentially reduce me down to some kind of fretful creature that attributes its existence to Lexapro or Xanax. It’s dehumanizing.

It’s debilitating, both the physiological response and the irrationality. There is no solution. My brain is never going to function like it’s “supposed” to. I may never be rid of my doubt. My anxiety is a faithful shadow, it follows me everywhere I go. I can accept that as my reality, but that doesn’t mean I won’t make the effort to try and ease the burden.

I’m not trying to give out advice. People are living through different things, and I’m only now trying to make a change in my own life. I have found the easiest thing to do is have open communication with those around me; assuming the worst is combatted best when there are people there to reassure me. It should be common practice for everybody to surround themselves with people that make them feel like more, rather than less. I also want to treat my own feelings with respect. Much of my life is riddled with my own negativity toward my issues. But if we want to destigmatize anxiety, first we must start with ourselves. People with mental illnesses shouldn’t just have to survive, we should be able to live too. b

Mental Health Resources

COUNSELING AND PSYCHOLOGICAL SERVICES

Third Floor Hudson Health Center

Students may call (740) 593-1616 to schedule an initial appointment or to consult with a counselor.

DROP-IN:

During weekdays, please drop-in at Hudson Health Center 3rd floor between 9:45am and 3:15pm.

NATIONAL SUICIDE PREVENTION LIFELINE

Call 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline

Hours: Available 24 hours. Langugages: English, Spanish.

IF YOU, OR SOMEONE YOU KNOW, IS AN IMMINENT DANGER TO THEMSELVES OR SOMEONE ELSE, GO TO THE NEAREST EMERGENCY ROOM OR CALL 911. IF YOU ARE ON ATHENS CAMPUS, CALL OUPD 3-1911 (740-593-1911).

NATIONAL SUICIDE PREVENTION LIFELINE

Call 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline

Hours: Available 24 hours. Langugages: English, Spanish.