In light of World Suicide Prevention Day on September 10th, 2016, I'd like to share my story of anxiety and how to keep moving forward.
A little over 7 years ago, I started experiencing symptoms of anxiety in its early forms. I was terrified to go to sleep at night, I slept with my lights on, TV on and music in my ear buds every night. I started to feel like the people around me didn't care or love me in the way I knew they did. I couldn't stop my thoughts and the endless circle of what ifs, worries, and fear. I didn't know much about anxiety when I was fourteen years old, I just knew that I felt scared all the time.
As time went on, I started to realize that the fear of death is what was really driving my anxiety. Now, I know that death is inevitable, but something had happened to me that summer that I started experiencing those anxiety symptoms which explained why I felt that way. Since that day, I have felt like I'm breathing underwater. The waves of anxiety come and go like the currents in the ocean. Some days they're strong, and other days they're mild. It's like when you feel like you're having a good day, and that it feels as if the anxiety doesn't exist for a moment and that the goodness of that day allows you to pretend for a little while. Coming up for air isn't common in this world of anxious trembling thoughts, but when it happens it's glorious, and suddenly the light starts to shine again.
When I was 19 years old, I decided to start going to cognitive behavioral therapy. The decision to go to therapy was difficult and one that I couldn't make on my own. Admitting that I needed help was tough. Therapy at the time seemed scary because I didn't know what to expect. I knew that sometimes you don't always find the right therapist right away or that talking about how you got to this point wouldn't come out as easy as I'd think it would. If there's anything I've learned about my anxiety, it's that finding people that you consider safe to you, or that you can go to at any point of the day for help is important. That's what I was seeking in a therapist. I wanted someone who understood me, could understand my story and how I got here. Luckily, I found that person on my first try, but not everyone is that lucky.
I'll be honest, therapy isn't always helpful, but a lot of the time it is. When I start to feel myself getting too much into my own head, I know it's time to make an appointment. Therapy is as much work for you as it is for your therapist in my eyes. I constantly find myself trying to use the tools and techniques that my therapist has given me to work through my anxiety, but it's not always easy. It's important to remind yourself that these things don't work instantly, and just like anything else in life it takes hard work. I'm the type of person that holds myself to an extremely high expectation and my anxiety dictates that. There are days where I feel like if I don't get certain things done, or have something to do all the time that I've failed that day, but I haven't.
Now I'm almost 21 years old and the symptoms of my anxiety have expanded into different things compared to when I was fourteen: I've experienced more panic attacks weekly than I can count on my fingers, dissociation and depersonalization have become an unsettling part of my life, and the physical symptoms of my anxiety are extremely overwhelming. I still feel that some days I'm one step forward, and ten steps back, but I remind myself to keep moving forward. I remind myself that I'm not that 14-year-old girl who had no idea what was going on with myself and that I'm taking the proper steps to getting better through therapy and support from my friends and family.
If there's one thing I've learned about anxiety, it's that sometimes you have to be your own lighthouse and guide yourself home. It's okay to be scared because anxiety is the fear of the unknown. Fear feeds into so many anxious thoughts and the circling begins again. These thoughts move so quick, quicker than my brain can handle sometimes. These thoughts make me feel like I'm going to vomit, word vomit, and actual vomit. I just know that anxiety is very much a part of me, but it's not the only part of me. At the end of the day I am stronger than anxiety will ever be, and so are you. Keep fighting, keep breathing, and remember that you're never alone.
