For the last four years, I have struggled with severe anxiety. I went three years without a diagnosis, and after finally giving into the suggestions from those close to me, I saw a counselor as well as a psychiatrist, and was eventually diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder. Living with untreated GAD for so long was a nightmare; I had severe chest pains for almost a full year, couldn't handle being alone for more than a few minutes at a time, and cried when I had to do the simplest of tasks — such as filling up a water bottle, because it just felt too stressful.
Most of the friendships I had made at my University deteriorated because I was either too anxious to hang out enough to their liking, or they simply felt uncomfortable around me. My romantic relationship was put under enormous strain since I had to be taken care of like a child. My father was constantly worried about me because I would text him saying that I hadn't slept in days because my heart rate was too high, and that it felt like I was having a heart attack. However, even though this time in my life has brought pain and suffering, it has also taught me invaluable life lessons.
1. Depending on another person isn't a bad thing.
Anyone who knows me even a little knows that I am stubbornly independent. I will not ask for help unless I have exhausted literally every other option. It's an admirable trait... to a point, and then it just becomes obnoxious. When I first started experiencing the physical symptoms of anxiety, I wouldn't accept help of any kind. I wanted to take care of myself even if it meant spending months sleeping maybe four hours per night with no form of comfort. Eventually, my symptoms became so bad that I had to accept help, and I hated it.
At first, I felt weak -- like I had been defeated by something so simple as an imbalance of chemicals in my brain which forced me into relying on somebody else for almost everything. After some time, I came to accept the help offered to me, and even felt grateful for it. Without the support system that my boyfriend and the few loyal friends that stuck by me provided, I wouldn't be able to live life normally again.
2. I am not my anxiety.
While anxiety may be a huge part my everyday life, it does not define me as a person. I am still Corri -- I just happen to need a medication in order for me to go through life without having an emotional breakdown. I am still the the Editor-in-Chief for the Odyssey chapter at my University -- I just need to focus on time management so that the responsibilities associated with the job do not overwhelm me. I am still a girlfriend, daughter, and coworker -- I just also need to take some time to be on my own so that I can keep my anxiety at bay. Anxiety has modified how I live my life, and it has changed some things about me, but it does not identify me; in other words, it is a big part of my life, but it is not my only defining factor.
3. I can conquer anything I put my mind to.
For the longest time my anxiety was holding me back from a lot of things, and it was; but in doing so, it taught me a great many things. Though I wasn't functioning at my normal capacity, I still managed to pass enough classes to keep my scholarships. I was able to hold a job through all but three months of the three years of untreated GAD. I learned how to cope with stress more efficiently and how to communicate my needs. I learned to rely on others when I needed it, but I also learned how to be independent even when suffering -- that my anxiety was a problem, but it wasn't a tool to be used to gain pity or attention.
Since taking medication, I am as close to being back to normal as I ever will be; I can handle high-stress situations without breaking down, but that's the only way that I am the same as before my anxiety. I'm stronger and more confident in myself than I was, and I know now that I can face any challenge head-on and walk away the victor. I was able to do many things while experiencing so much suffering, therefore I can do anything.
