Writing about my personal journey with anxiety is really challenging for me. Despite the fact that I’ve created this blog, I’m actually very private about personal matters. It has taken a lot of hard work and perseverance to be able to be so open about everything.
I wanted to write this as personal therapy and as a way to connect to all of you. But most importantly, I did it in hopes that someone reading this will end up feeling supported and/or inspired.
The Beginning of my Personal Journey with Anxiety
Since I was a child, I have been experiencing panic attacks and anxiety, but since I was small I never quite had a word for it. Anxiety for me translated into “my stomach hurts”, or “I don’t really want to go”, or “I’m not feeling well”. This often led me to stay at home a lot, and not seek out social interactions and activities.
I remember field trips would make me scared and I wouldn’t understand why. Going to friends’ houses to me was more like a big stomachache than fun. I even missed months of school because I felt unwell every time I was there. At the time, we all thought that I was physically sick.
Turns out it was anxiety all along, I just didn’t know it.
I was very high functioning and often came off as loud, personable, and headstrong. And I really was. I had my annoyingly obnoxious personality that holds true to what I’m like, but at the same time, I was a nervous wreck. It just came down to the fact that I could hide it well, and ignore it.
Until I couldn’t.
I was around 12 when my panic disorder, agoraphobia, and depression blew up. It’s not that they weren’t there before. It’s more so that they had been brewing unattended for so long they ended up exploding.
I was completely unable to go to school, or even outside at all for that matter. I often stayed cocooned inside having multiple panic attacks a day. When I wasn’t having a panic attack, I was either experiencing severe anxiety anticipating one, or I was asleep due to the exhaustion of having so many.
Getting Professional Help for my Disorders
This disabled me a lot as you can imagine, leading me to the big, intimidating realization that I needed help. A lot of it.
I had actually felt like I needed help for years before that but felt extremely ashamed and uncomfortable asking for it. I didn’t know what people would say, and I didn’t want even my own family to know about it.
Clearly no longer functioning properly, I didn’t have much of a choice but to reach out. Receiving the services I needed was as traumatizing as it gets, so I’ll save those pieces for myself.
But after the whole ordeal of getting through the emergency room, I rejected an in-patient program and instead agreed to intensive out-patient therapy. (I wrote an article on the differences between in-patient and out-patient programs if you want to check that out)
Despite how difficult the experience was, I have to say that therapy genuinely saved me. I was blessed to have a great psychiatrist (not many people can say that sadly), and I was dedicated to helping myself. A perfect formula for success.
I went through Exposure Therapy as well as Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT) for a few years, until I felt I didn’t need it anymore in high school. Even after though, I would occasionally go for a check-in with my psychiatrist to see where I’m at and if I might need more supports later.
The experience was incredibly difficult in every way imaginable.
I wasn’t used to opening up to others and it often felt like I was unwrapping bandaged wounds that hadn’t stopped bleeding yet just so I could pour alcohol on them and inflame them even more. But soon I realized that I needed to disinfect these wounds and properly inspect them so that I could give them the appropriate treatment and have them properly heal.
That was hard to do at 12.
I recall many sessions swallowed up by tearful breakdowns where I couldn’t speak, squeezing of pillows for comfort, candies as rewards, and a trashcan full of snotty tissues. But I also recall learning about what’s happening inside my brain and how to manage it. I also remember feeling like I wasn’t alone or crazy, and that I was supported.
And with all my hard work and the support of my psychiatrist, I was able to stabilize myself.
That’s how it stayed for almost the entire length of my high school years. I had actually become high-functioning and present in life again. To this day it still feels like a miracle that I managed to go through intensive therapy at such a young age.
My Relationship With Anxiety & Mood Abnormalities Now
Since then, I’ve still received help on and off from Social Workers, Psychologists, and doctors when things start getting bad. I’ve now gone through 3 rounds of therapy with different individuals.
I currently am still experiencing anxiety, panic attacks, and mood abnormalities. There are days I can barely get out of bed. I continue to struggle with leaving my house. I get panic attacks on and off all the time.
But the difference now is I know how to cope. When something goes off track, I know what to do. That is what therapy gave me. It never “cured” me or gave me the answers. Instead, it gave me tools to be able to put the pieces together myself and continue living my life.
I still harbor anger for the fact that I have to suffer from the things that I do, but I’ve learned that fighting them makes it worse. Learning to work with what’s happening is going to be much easier than opposing it. This goes for anything in life, not just mental health.
So now I like to think of my disorders as little mean friends in my brain that purposely eat all the cookies at the tea party so I can’t have any. But instead of getting mad, I make some more cookies, boil some tea, and continue our tea party together. And sometimes we laugh and I thank them for what they’ve taught me, and other times our tea boils over. But we always come back and continue our party.
Changing how I see myself, the world, and utilizing all the tools I’ve learned in therapy and life has allowed me to be where I am today. I’m now in Social Work, looking to practice in mental health so that I can support others going through what I went through.
I don’t have 10 panic attacks a day. I go outside and participate in life. I’m a straight-A student at University. I’ve even traveled!
While I am by no means at the end, I hope my personal journey with anxiety thus far has inspired or connected with you. If not, thank you for giving it your time regardless.
I often felt like I was the only one going through this at the time, but I imagine I definitely was not. Did any of you relate to anything I said? Or maybe how your story differed? I’d love to know!
All my love,
T