Anxiety is hard. Really hard.
I've had anxiety for my entire life. I've always been anxious, quick to worry, afraid of consequences. The first panic attack I can remember happened when I was nine. They've happened on and off since. Last one was only a few days ago. Before that it was about three months.
Anxiety is all I have ever known. I do not know what it is like to not have a heart that is constantly about to break out of my chest, or to be ever actually truly calm. Sure, I can be relaxed, relatively. But to hear those who don't have anxiety talk about calm is very odd. It's like the stakes are raised higher for me, and not in a good way. My calm is their normal, their anxiousness my normal, and my anxiousness their breakdown. There's this whole thing with fight or flight that we as humans are only really supposed to feel when we are in danger. I feel this nearly all the time. It is not enjoyable to always be in danger.
I've been on anti-anxiety medication since I was a sophomore in high school. And it's helped, astronomically. Zoloft is some pretty great stuff. But my anxiety isn't gone. The thing with chronic illnesses is that, unlike illnesses like the flu or malaria, you can't just take some medicine to make it go away or help it go away. My anxiety is chronic. It's not going anywhere. This is something I am going to have to deal with for the rest of my life. But medication helps the symptoms. The extremes of emotion, the ones that cause me to hyperventilate or freeze up, become traits I can ignore or adapt to. The weight of the world goes away, or at the very least becomes lighter.
I freak out about things. I overanalyze, I'm far too critical, I overthink so much that I will often end long hours of homework with a headache so bad only sleep and water can cure it. And for me, anxiety attacks are scary. Sometimes, I go mute. I have trouble talking, and even just forming words with my mouth feels impossible. I'll tense up. I'll get lightheaded. I'll be breathing hard. The only thing I know in those moments is that I am afraid. I don't know what it is I am afraid of, exactly, but I am afraid. Depends on a lot of things.
Sometimes anxiety happens during sleep, too. I'll wake up and all of the sudden my body feels like it has been thrown into a pool of cold water with no ladder to help me get out. And as tiring as anxiety attacks can be, my heart still beats too fast for me to fall asleep again.
When you see me, or anyone else going through anxiety, here's some advice:
Get them water.
Find them a place to lay down.
If they're okay with it, offer touch.
Show them something real.
Listen to them if they can speak, and if they can't and want to, give them something to write with. Listen and tell them they are valid. Reassure them the feeling is real. Yes, the anxiety is all in their head. but we know that. What I often don't know is how real the situation is, or if my feelings are valid. That not knowing makes things even worse.
Last of all, love them. Got someone you love with anxiety? Do your research. Know what to do. Everyone is different. Ask. But just love them. Love, and listen.
