Anxiety Is...

In recent months, mental health has been an increasingly prevalent topic of public discussion. But even with the surge in conversation, I think it’s still tough to understand mental illness unless a person has experienced it firsthand. Just the other day, I tried to explain anxiety to my little brother to no avail; he can’t grasp the idea that someone can have so little ability to control what upsets them. So, I’ve decided to share my personal experiences in hopes of showing what it’s like to live with anxiety. We must do a better job of destigmatizing the conversations about mental illness. Most importantly, we must get the facts right.

Nowadays, many people (including myself) are guilty of using the phrase “___ gave me such anxiety,” and other similar statements.  Yes, in the moment we feel anxious, but this feeling isn’t necessarily the same thing as the mental illness. The National Institute of Mental Health states that anxiety disorders affect approximately 18% of the US population (meaning 42 million adults, and that doesn’t even include kids under the age of 18). Everyone with an anxiety disorder has different triggers and experiences, and no two cases are exactly alike.  

Anxiety has affected me for my entire life; there is not a time I can remember that I didn’t feel its impact. More recently, however, I’ve realized that it had so deeply intertwined itself into my existence that I didn’t even notice its complete grip on my well-being.

For me, anxiety is the walking across campus with my head down, afraid to make eye contact with anyone passing by for the fear that they might look in my eyes and somehow know what I’m thinking. Yes, it seems very silly, because Edward Cullen is nowhere to be found in the suburbs, but to me it’s anything but a joke.

Anxiety is the stressing about making a phone call and double and triple-checking the number because God forbid I get it wrong and I accidentally dial the wrong number. It’s the rehearsing exactly what I’m going to say before I pick up the phone because I might freeze or say something wrong if I don’t practice.

Anxiety is the endless pacing up and down the store aisles, afraid to ask for help in finding an item because I might come across as stupid.

Anxiety is the sinking feeling in my stomach and racing heart when a relative comes through the door, because I have trouble with one-on-one conversation.

Anxiety is fear. Throughout elementary school and into middle school, I was terrified of using the bathroom during the school day because I was so nervous that the fire alarm would go off when I wasn’t in the classroom: a situation that would surely mean confusion and excessive stress. After a close friend had a house fire, I was traumatized and became terrified of fire; I’ve never lit a match in my life.

Anxiety is laying in bed and thinking about everything that happened that day and twisting situations and conversations in my brain until I am positive that I said something stupid or I acted awkwardly. It’s the constant weight of regret. I could have a perfectly normal conversation with my friend and then manage to convince myself that I said something that could ruin our relationship. I often don’t fall asleep until 1 or 2 in the morning because I am so wired.

Anxiety is having a pretty good idea of the right answer in class, but being completely unable to raise my hand for the slight chance that I might be wrong. Being wrong means that I spend the rest of the day replaying the moment in my head and mentally beating myself up about it. Ask me about it six months from now, and I’ll still remember it as clear as day. I remember every embarrassing moment I have ever experienced, and I endure the piercing replays of the memories at the most random times of the day.

Anxiety is getting drunk to feel more socially accepted and to experience a night without stressing over what I say or the actions I choose to make.

Anxiety is not wanting to be seen putting on lipstick in public because what if he thinks I’m trying to impress him when I just want to look good? If he gets the wrong idea I’d be so embarrassed, and I’d never be able to hang out around him again. Anxiety is paranoia over the tiniest little things.

Anxiety is the inability to make friends because I severely self-doubt, like what if they don’t want to be my friend, what if they don’t actually like me? I’m not the one who usually makes plans with acquaintances. I convince myself that they think I’m weird and talk about me behind my back.

Anxiety is the “resting bitch face” that I wear so often. It’s not that I’m necessarily angry or upset, I’m just on edge or my feelings don’t transfer over to my emotions.

These are only some of the ways in which I deal with anxiety; many of them I can’t even vocalize. So much of the time, anxiety is completely irrational. It doesn’t make sense. I worry about things that aren’t real or on anyone else’s radar.  And yet, to me, it is my everyday. I get up every morning and live with it. It plays a role in every word I speak, every move I make, and every other aspect of my life.

If you have anxiety yourself, I hope this helps remind you that you are not alone and that you are stronger than any hurdles thrown your way. For those of you who don’t suffer from anxiety firsthand, I hope this gives you a peek into a day in the life. And please, if you have friends or family members that live with it, be patient with them. We’re not broken; we can still love and be loved just like any other human. In fact, our struggles might even make us more empathetic towards others and allow us to love with even more compassion and strength.

When we’re upset, don’t try to tell us to “Get over it,” or, “It’s not a big deal,” even if in your eyes, it’s a silly thing to fuss over. To us, it is a big deal. The best thing you can do is remind us that it’s all going to be OK, and that you’re here for us. And we’ll remember that some way, somehow, eventually it all will be.

I will not let my anxiety get the best of me. It took me twenty years to face my issues head-on because I thought that admitting that I was struggling was a sign of weakness, when in reality, it takes strength and courage to work towards change. I am proud to say that I am finally making strides to improve my life. I am only on this earth once, and like hell am I going to waste it drowning in my fears and letting anxiety hold me back.