I don't remember a whole lot about any of my anxiety attacks. I have very brief memories from all of them. Some of these memories might be real or they might honestly be information other people have told me and memories I've created to try and make myself more comfortable. Comfort is not something I can usually associate with anxiety.
Look, everyone has anxiety. We can argue and argue for days that anxiety is not a real issue, that I should just calm down and stop being overzealous about this, but I kid you not, anxiety is real. It is not fun. Anxiety is an issue that I cannot control, no matter how hard I've tried. Anxiety is something everyone deals with, but some people, like myself, cannot deal with it. We do not possess the emotional capacity to deal with certain situations. This has scientific and medical credibility. I am not making it up.
This is my personal journey with my anxiety.
The first time I had an anxiety attack, I was thirteen. My grandmother took us to the Tellus Science Museum where they were showing a film about black holes. I remember looking up at the decorative ceiling and feeling like it would suddenly crash in on us. The next thing I remember is waiting in the hallway for the film to be over. Space, or rather, the unknown scares me. It's a trigger for my anxiety. For instance, going to deep in the ocean, or jumping on a zip line: both things I can't do. The unknown itself is a big issue for me. It's the reason I have issues with relationships, both intimate and casual, and why I have issues with merely talking to people. I often get called 'control freak' and they're absolutely right. I am a control freak, but not because I like being in charge, it's because I lack the emotional stability to let things be. These are my triggers. They change from day to day–for example, on particularly fragile days, the idea of starting a conversation of which I do not know the outcome can scare me. Losing control, not being able to handle a situation, either emotionally or physically, scares me to a point I cannot control. Getting into these types of situations usually causes me to have an anxiety attack.
However, going back to what I said before, I don't remember a lot about my anxiety attacks. I know that stress clouds my mind to where it's all I can think about. Words of derision and fear run through my head, spell themselves out, write and erase and repeat all over my mind. Words like: failure, fear, death, sadness, alone, friendless, freakish, awful and more repeat themselves over and over again. I usually cry or vomit because I'm so freaked out. I'm often seated or still, but my heart is racing like I've run a 10K in a second and a half. I sweat, but feel cold. I cannot see straight or only see a blur. Small noises like walking on carpet or breathing around me sound loud and terrifying. It often gets to a point where I feel my heart will explode. At this moment, I either snap out of it and feel exhausted and nauseous, or I faint. This can last anywhere from a few minutes to several hours. It is utterly terrifying. It has happened more than I'd like it to.
I decided to write this because I am tired of people saying this isn't a real issue. People tell me "I'm dramatic," "I'm faking this for attention," "Everyone has anxiety, you're not special," or "Pull yourself together." To this I say: Until you have experienced what I detailed above, until you have awakened nearly every night because of a small, embarrassing memory tearing away at your mind, until you have cried because you cannot pull yourself together enough to ask a retail worker where something is, you have no right to talk about it. You don't get to decide anything about my anxiety.
You cannot tell me about my own mental issues. You cannot judge me for them. I'm working on it, but even if it isn't resolved ever, it does not give you the right to decide that my anxiety isn't real for me. Just because it's not real for you, doesn't mean it's not real for me.
