I have been dealing with anxiety on and off for at least a couple of years. I first realized I was coping with it during the summer of 2014 when I had to get my wisdom teeth removed. One of my impacted teeth had developed an infection and my dentist prescribed me antibiotics, which made me feel a little sick to my stomach. Something about having to go to the appointments with my oral surgeon while not feeling well activated my anxiety like never before. I would sit there in the waiting room sweating buckets, my heart hammering away a mile a minute as my stomach churned like a washing machine, wanting to flee to the safety of the car and feeling trapped and helpless because I couldn't. These appointments cost money. I could not back out, not now. I made it through the oral surgery, but in the wake of that I began feeling terrible any time I left the house.
The Fourth of July came and I tried to back out of my family's annual gathering while my partner Brian and I were en route. We could not get cell reception to call them and let them know that we wouldn't be there, so we ended up finishing out the trip. We chatted with my family members, but Brian and I were there for no more than twenty minutes before I decided that I had to go. I started feeling better on the trip home and hated myself for leaving because it's not every day that most of my family comes together like that.
I also rode along with my partner to several of his family gatherings, only to decide as we neared his mom's or grandma's house that I could not do it. He had to go in and tell his family that I wasn't feeling well, drive me home, and then head back to the event himself. I felt like an awful person for missing out on seeing his family and even worse for taking away from the time he could spend with them.
During the weeks surrounding the wisdom tooth debacle, I had no idea why I was sick all the time. I realized that I was dealing with anxiety and not just stomach malaise on the way to Joann one day. We were stopping there before visiting with Brian's family and as we got close to the store I started feeling sick. I realized then that my sickness correlated with my arrival at wherever I needed to be and that was when it clicked for me. Realizing this didn't immediately make things better for me, but at least I understood then what was going on with me and it gave me the ability to start developing strategies to fight it. I had already figured out that listening to books on tape helped me because they distracted me from feeling sick; now I knew that distractions could actually alleviate my sickness.
Dealing with anxiety is kind of like being Sisyphus pushing that boulder. I'll be chugging along, thinking I'm finally making progress, when BOOM! anxiety strikes like a bolt of lighting and I'm back to struggling to get through routine activities. My anxiety thrives off of the idea of being sick when I'm away from home and not being able to get back home. Sometimes, if I'm feeling good, I can make local trips and think nothing of it. However, I have mild gastrointestinal issues that crop up periodically, so it does not take long for me to go from feeling fine to feeling sick. Then anxiety is on me in a flash and I'm struggling to do basic things like go to class.
It takes me ten minutes to walk to the physics building from home. It isn't a long distance, but when my anxiety is on high alert, much shorter distances can stretch out for miles upon miles. There were times this past semester where I had to have Brian drive me to my class and promise to wait five minutes before leaving the parking lot so that if I needed to get out fast and get home I could. Lecture is usually enough to keep me distracted, at least somewhat, but those moments between when I arrived and when class began were torturous.
Holiday gatherings can be a disaster because of the amount of travel time. This Easter I was in tears, begging to turn around even though I knew it was going to be the last year of my family's Easter egg hunt, one of my favorite traditions. Somehow we got through and I had fun, but it was hard.
I've accepted a teaching assistanceship for this upcoming fall and the thought petrifies me because I know it's going to be a million times worse (I haven't been formally employed since I earned my Masters in May of 2014). As a student, I can miss a class and it's not the end of the world, but if I'm teaching, I can only cancel class or find a replacement instructor so many times. My dream is to become a full time writer so that I can work from the comfort of home and not have to confront this issue every. damn. day.
Anyway, for the past couple of years I've told no one aside from Brian about what I'm going through. Earlier this summer I reached the tipping point. My social media presence was all happiness and smiles (with some political rants mixed in for good measure) and no one could see how awful I was really feeling. I either had to quit social media, or be honest about what was going on with me, and I chose the latter. After one frustrating tussle with anxiety, I wrote the following Facebook post about my struggles:
I want to tell you about two different days, today and yesterday. Yesterday was a good day. Brian and I headed to Bangor to visit his mom and grandma and went to a couple of stores. I felt fine and was only anxious for a moment here or there. He and I took a stroll through the gardens. The smile in this picture here [see below] is of course posed, but I was happy. Then today anxiety hit me like an eighteen wheeler. Brian and I were going 10 minutes down the road to pick up my mom. Maybe I would have been okay if it wasn't for all that plant matter that had fallen onto the car that Brian had to brush off. As I was sitting alone in the car, waiting for him to finish, I started thinking, "What if the car breaks down? What if it breaks down and I get sick and there's no way to get back home immediately?" Soon I started feeling sick and by the time we were about halfway through the drive, it was getting pretty intense. I was feeling hot and sweaty and my stomach wasn't doing well at all. I decided then that it wasn't worth it and asked Brian to turn the car around. Immediately I started feeling better. It would have been 10 extra minutes, 5 more down to pick up my mom and then 5 more added onto the trip back home, but today that was too much. Anxiety had plagued me for the last half of the semester, making each morning a fight against myself to get to class, but I managed perfect attendance. I made it to two of my friends' thesis defenses as well as to the graduation parties. I hadn't been able to sign up for any tabling throughout the semester because the thought of being stuck at a table and not able to go home was too much, but that was a minor issue. But suddenly this little trip overwhelmed me. I could have done it. I could have pushed through the sickness and it would have sucked and maybe I wouldn't have had the appetite for lunch. Today being able to eat Brian's fresh bread and to feel well for mom's visit mattered more than beating my anxiety. I don't know if there's a point to what I'm saying other than anxiety sucks and some days out of the blue it hits me full force and the energy it takes to cope with it is overwhelming and I just can't.
It was really cathartic for me to write this post and the outpouring of support I received from my friends and family was incredible and meant the world to me. I felt like I was finally able to show my true self and it was wonderful knowing that people still accepted me and cared about me. But Facebook isn't always the best forum for talking about anxiety. I can't caption every smiling photo of me with info about how terrible I was feeling because that would get really depressing, but I need a space where I can talk about my struggles. That is where this blog comes in. It's a place for me to let it all out, what I'm thinking, what I'm going through. Ideally, I'd get better and not need a space to talk about my issues, but I know the odds are that won't happen, at least not completely, so until then I'll be here.
I know this was a long post and that it's not a nice, linear narrative. I promise they won't always be like this. Thank you for sticking with me, for taking the time to listen to my struggles. If you are struggling too and need someone to talk to, write me in the comments or message me at hathaway.amber@gmail.com. I have no training in counseling or psychology, so I can't help with that side of things, but if you need to vent I'm here.
Take care everyone! Until next time,
Amber
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