Alright, let's talk a little about anxiety. First of all, anxiety is extremely common and dealt with by many people that do not even show they have an issue. I have lived with anxiety disorders almost my whole life. Growing up I had separation anxiety and social anxiety. Now, however, I have only Generalized Anxiety Disorder and Panic Disorder. I have one doctor that diagnosed me with OCD, but I think this was a false diagnosis.
The first time I remember having a panic attack I was only four years old. I was in dance with my cousin. My mom would take us to dance practice each week, but I would only practice if she gave me her keys indicating she would not leave me there. As a four year old baby, I had this idea that my parents would replace me at the drop of a hat. Anyway, one day I didn't see her in the foyer and convinced myself she ditched me. I ran to the bathroom and threw up all over the floor and was inconsolable until my body and brain decided I was actually okay. Anxiety.
The next attack I remember was when I was six. My mom was letting me play on the playground at McDonald's. It had an enclosed slide which always made me nervous. I slid down the slide and someone was blocking the opening at the end. So, I immediately turned around to climb back out the top, because I was terrified. Then, someone else came down and blocked me in the middle. It felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the tube, and breathing became the hardest job I had ever had. I had nightmares about it for years. I even remember have a recurring nightmare that I got stuck in one of those tubes, and my parents couldn't get me out so they just got a new kid and left me there. Anxiety.
As I got older, I began having them more frequently. I had separation anxiety from my mom, I had anxiety every morning while trying to go to school (I am talking all the way up to middle school). My poor mother. I would have a panic attack almost every morning on the way to school and many mornings get so sick to the point she would let me go back home. I remember, one morning, she told me, "you are going to school unless you are throwing up or bleeding out your eyeballs." It was definitely a recurring issue. It didn't make sense, because I was one of those kids that really loved to learn. So, I liked school, I just had a disorder we didn't know how to deal with. Anxiety.
As I moved into high school, I had learned to deal with it for the most part. I was pretty good at hiding it and swallowing the anxiety enough to make it to a bathroom before I had a full on attack. I still didn't know what the issue was, but I was better at hiding it from people. However, the more I tried to conceal it, the more attacks I had. By senior year, I was having at least an attack a day. It was exhausting. Anxiety.
I recount all this history to tell you that I know I have anxiety, now. I deal with it every day. I will never live a day without it. It is mine and I am it's. We are one. I am okay with it, and my family and I are learning to function each day with it. It has been quite the experience. Anxiety used to be a source of aggression and hatefulness for me, but as I have learned to deal with it I have become much more docile. That is, until this very morning when my poor roommate and mother found themselves in the line of my anxious fire.
Today was a very big day for me. I am graduating college in a month, and my school had a mandatory job fair for my department today. Missing job fair meant no graduation without an extremely legitimate excuse. I was supposed to be there at a specific time to sign in. I woke up 5 minutes after that specific time. Somehow, my alarm didn't go off. I used to set about four alarms for the morning to avoid this exact problem, but part of my coping with anxiety has been to trust every day situations to work out. Ha. So, I wake up and realize it is already daylight. Immediately I knew what had happened before even looking at my phone. I jumped out of bed and began throwing on random articles of clothing. Luckily, I had already decided what I would wear and hung it on my door, so I was grabbing the right pieces. I didn't have time to wash my hair. I am talking 4 days worth of hair grease on this head of mine. It was utterly disgusting, but I was stuck with it. I was yelling at clothing, shoes, toothbrushes, bobby pins, myself, my phone, the mirror, my hands. If it was in proximity, I was yelling at it. My poor roommate was still home and was the recipient of said yelling. I think I scared him a little (or a lot). I called my mom and panicked on her. Screamed, cried, froze. As horrible as this sounds, it was actually a good moment. Say what? Yes, a good moment. You see, I used to have massive freak outs like this for no reason. Frequently. I don't have those moments anymore. I don't have screaming panics without a stimulus. In fact this one was the first in such a long time. I can see growth in myself, and it is exciting.
But from now on, I will set two alarms.
Sincerely,
Miss
