Putting how anxiety feels into words is very difficult when trying to get someone else to understand. I usually don't have a reason to be anxious and a lot of the time, there really never is one. I was diagnosed with anxiety when I was 5 years old, and I received counseling for it. I stopped going because I felt better, but the summer going into my senior year is when everything changed. Every day, I woke up dreading the day ahead. As soon as my eyes opened to the sound of my alarm ringing, the worrying began. Worrying about what I looked like, worrying about what going to happen during the day, worrying someone was mad at me, worrying people weren't going to like me, just worrying about everything possible. My mind was on a constant, repeating track of worry and nervousness about life. For me, specifically it was my body image and self esteem. I was honestly at the lowest point of my life. I was lost and felt myself falling deeper into a hole. I tried every single day to put a smile on my face and act like I was happy and living my best life, when I wasn't. My mom noticed a change in how I acted and asked me what was going on. I shoved it away, worrying once again, that it would change her opinion of me. The best way I can describe what I feel when I'm anxious is like having 1,000 pounds on my chest. My heart beats super fast, my palms are sweaty, my eyes welt with tears as my brain goes on and on. I have had multiple sleepless nights, which just makes things a whole lot worse. Most of my friends and teachers described me as a happy, strong, and determined woman who wanted to help others. I only opened up to my parents and my best friend, but other than that......nobody had any clue. I felt alone, scared, and helpless all the time. I wanted to die. I really did. I just wanted all of that pain to go away. I was sick of worrying about everything, feeling scared, and the panic attacks wouldn't go away. I did lose some friends because I pushed them away, but I did not want to be a burden. The day that I asked my mom to go to therapy was and still is the best day of my life. I broke down in her lap. Imagine a 17 year old, head in her moms lap, crying about how much she hates her life and hates worrying all the time and wants it to stop. She listened, told me it will get better, and the next morning she made the phone call to set up therapy. It was the best thing I could have ever done for myself. I'm currently on medication for it, as well as medication for depression and panic disorder. People wouldn't know if I didn't tell them. They really wouldn't. You can't hear someone else's thoughts. Not all feelings are visible to the eye. It affected my school work, relationships, and my every day life.
Along with a lot of other people, I'm still struggling. It is so much better than it was last year, but I still have bad days, sometimes a whole week, but I always ground myself and remember how I felt back then. I sit back, maybe cry it out, and just breathe. It is an every day battle, even if it is better than before. You'd never know it just by looking at me or watching me in public, but those thoughts are there. Worrying. Nervous. But I've learned healthy ways to cope, and I just hope someone reading this who can relate in the slightest, sees that there is hope and there is a light at the end of the tunnel for them, too.
My biggest reminder to myself is: Your anxiety does NOT define who you are. I am NOT my anxiety.
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