I’m writing this post having had an anxiety episode the night prior – causing me insomnia (even though my body was physically exhausted already, my mind ran wildly and refused to shut down). More importantly – I want to surface what anyone with anxiety can relate to, and what those without it need to know.

It literally took 4 hours of Gordon Ramsey’s show Kitchen Nightmares at 2AM to bring me back (as odd as that is, since if you know the show, it isn’t exactly “calming” at all).

As for someone with anxiety, and social anxiety – there is no quick, simple fix. Period. All my life I have absolutely dreaded certain social situations (from talking on the phone, large parties, work meetings, meeting new people, to making speeches). Though it may not ever seem like it – there’s anxiety hiding behind the girl with the huge smile, and constant laughs.

As I get older, my life merely revolves around having an escape route – for everything. I usually need a “boost” in order to fully relax in front of people I don’t know very well, or at all. Yes, a drink helps. Even being around children gives me anxiety – screaming, crying babies, especially.

Apologies in advanced to my friends with babies – it’s nothing personal! 

Going to the grocery store alone at times requires a mental pep talk in the car, and I overthink almost everything I do or say. I’m one of those that nervously drives around my block to make sure I closed the garage or locked the door (a midst convinced my neighbors are judging me for having done so).

They will say, “Why do you care so much?”

Honestly, underneath it all – I don’t. For those who can’t understand my anxiety, the typical assumption is that I have low self esteem. That is far from the truth. I love who I am, and the skin I’m in. Because of that, I gravely worry that people are always out to break me, fix me, or change me (for their own satisfaction) instead of helping or accepting me.

They will say, “Don’t let what anyone says affect you…”

As if that’s easier said than done. Believe me, there are times I’d love to react to life with the mindset, “Oh well – life goes on – no big deal,” instead of succumbing to my mind and emotions spinning out of control. The worst part is that I can’t see it coming, and it’s incredibly difficult to stop. With anxiety – that rationality only surfaces once the wave of shakes, cold sweats, numbness, worry and mental fog has passed (which could be hours, days or weeks).

What I really want to say is – my anxiety doesn’t really define me. And if you’re one who also suffers, you can probably relate to this post. For those who don’t, I want to paint a clear picture of what my anxiety looks like – in a nutshell.

my anxiety in a nutshell

[+ what those without it need to Know]

Anxiety isn’t just something you “snap out of“

Which is so downright annoying to hear. That only makes me more anxious.

For those who believe it is so simple – imagine the worst moment ever-to-date in your life, or put yourself in a position with your worst fear. Then try to imagine someone (a stranger, a family member, and a loved one) telling you to “get over yourself and snap out of it“.

Yeah, ouch.

It’s the nice way of saying, “There’s something wrong with you, and you need to fix that in order to be at my level.” Guess what? If I could shut my brain off, and all the emotions with it – I would have been an emotionless, thoughtless robot years ago!

Granted, our minds are powerful, just as we are given the power of managing it. But there’s the key word: manage. I didn’t say control, predict, or turn off completely. Meaning, I can’t just control my anxiety before it starts, but I can certainly do things to help manage it when it strikes.

I spent years bottling up emotions from my anxiety – so deep, to the point where the only way I know is to simply shut down – mainly because I was always left feeling that my emotions were invalid. Now the overflow – unsettled anxiety I shoved to the back of my mind years ago – tends to seep through the cracks without warning.  Even in those moments my emotions and thoughts are not just something I can immediately stop thinking about, but I’m having to learn to manage them now as they arise.

With that, anxiety can simply erupt out of the blue (without even meaning it to)

There are those who will say that I create my anxiety. Whether to get out of doing certain things, to make me feel entitled or fragile, or in order for others to feel sorry for me. If my blood isn’t already boiling – it is when I hear that.

Here’s the fact: I don’t want people to feel sorry for me. That would only imply that I am damaged, inadequate or incapable. The worst feeling is the weakness, and how small my anxiety makes me feel, but I don’t need anyone else to tell me how I should feel.

When I say that I don’t exactly have control over my anxiety and when it happens, I literally mean it can manifest itself out of no where. Sometimes for no reason at all (though there’s generally always a reason). I call it blind anxiety – because it’s caused by something with no initial impact, yet will be triggered by something and hit me like a ton of bricks me later on.

Avoiding “triggers” is not that simple

If I avoided everything that seems to “trigger” my anxiety, [laughing hysterically], I wouldn’t even be living at all!

So yeah, I guess you could say the anxiety is worth living through, or seeming like I live a normal life. I think over the years I’ve grown so accustomed to hiding my anxiety – so well, in fact, no one would really even know I have it. Many assume I am just socially awkward and introverted when they meet me – or otherwise shy, quiet, boring, bland and cold-shouldered.

Sure, I could avoid flying on planes, big crowds, doctor’s offices, answering and talking on the phone, and never deal with the problems in my life, family or marriage. That would be so easy, but where would that get me? I’d be left with more anxiety on top of what I already endure. The anxiety of those I love most possibly being disappointed in me – or worse, condemning me as unlovable.

Nighttime is my worst enemy

At least for me. I can think of the countless nights I spent lying in bed, wide awake and shaking under my skin – my heart racing like I had just ran a marathon.

The whole counting sheep crap? Yeah, because that’s a saving grace – said no one with anxiety EVER. I don’t know about you, but I can multi-task – counting sheep and my mind be spinning round and around. Before I know it, I’m at sheep Number #455. The sheep are no longer jumping over the moon – they’re asleep and piling on top of each other while my mind is still spinning.

I can recall so many times my anxiety spiked the moment it would be time to go to bed – as I’d say to myself, “I bet I won’t even consider this in the morning.” Sure enough, the bright sun of day made the world of a difference, and I’d say to myself, “That was pointless to worry a night’s sleep over.”

It’s easily safe to say that the eerie dead of night is my worst enemy. It’s the time when the earth is still, and all the unknown of tomorrow and beyond fill my mind while everyone else sleeps. My brain will suddenly open it’s flood gates – the overwhelming feeling of never being good enough, that I should have done this and not that, all the What-Ifs and their possibilities, my fears accentuated ten folds, my drive to succeed now unreachable and that in a moment’s time my life may come crashing down in shambles. It’s at this point where everything is now a domino effect.

Anxiety can easily turn into an avalanche

The way I can describe anxiety is that it’s like a tree. Every tree has branches – each being another trigger, a what if, or worry branching off from the original. And sometimes it doesn’t stop – turning into an avalanche, which can ultimately end in a panic attack or nervous breakdown.

After 9 years in the long haul, I am finally graduated from college. Backed by countless restless nights and times I wanted to give up due to my anxiety. With college as a major example and trigger – here is the way my anxiety would generally spiral into an avalanche:

[…

What if I fail this assignment? Then I’d possibly fail every other, and ultimately fail the class. Should I withdraw from the class, or stick with it? If I withdraw, I’ll just have to retake it. But when? They barely have one available each semester. What if the next one clashes with another course I’m taking? That’s adding another year on before I graduate. Maybe I should work less hours? But then I can’t pay for tuition. OK, but if  I stay in the class – what if I fail miserably? My GPA will be shot. I’m already hovering a 2.7. If I get lower than a 2.0, I’ll be kicked out of the school. My parents will be so disappointed in me. I’ll never hear the end of it – I’ll be known as a failure. What will I do then? I’ll be stuck at the same job. If I stay at the same job, I’ll be miserable. What will my boyfriend think? He will think I am a failure. He won’t want to be with someone like that. If we break up, where will I go? See, I don’t even have my life together. I’d have to move back into my parent’s house. I can’t afford to live on my own. What if they won’t accept me back, because of me failing school? 

…]

Connect with me on Twitter, Instagram & Facebook so you don’t miss the latest blog updates!

Granted, the worry of anxiety is often irrational – but that doesn’t make it unreal

Sure, the likelihood of those worries from above actually occurring – probably a very low risk, if at all. That doesn’t make the emotional side of it not real. The worry is still real, the emotions are genuine, and the fear is justified. To someone without anxiety – they might see the light at the end of the tunnel, or simply deal with whatever happens head on when it happens.

Am I saying that, with anxiety, we worry about the things that aren’t in our control? Yes.

Do we worry about and overreact over the most irrelevant, illogical and minute things? Yes.

And I will agree time and time again, “We shouldn’t worry about the things we can’t predict or control.” The saddest part is admittedly knowing that. It’s engraved in my brain, yet the most frustrating is simply not being able to turn off the unpredictable emotional side of it. Especially when there are times I panic over things that are not even worth being anxious about – my emotions will go into overdrive.

The body often suffers the consequences

I know when I suffer from anxiety, I can’t and won’t eat. My husband knows this – many times having to ask me, “Have you eaten today?” What he doesn’t really know is how often that is stemmed from my anxiety. It acts as a filler – I will feel full, and my appetite non-existent.

The neck and shoulder pain that follows will often times be excruciating, and the mere physical and mental exhaustion knocks me off my feet (even if I haven’t exerted myself at all that day).

I’ll never forget when the physicality of my anxiety all started. In middle school, while doing my homework one afternoon, I was flustered and anxious (as many likely experience). Without warning I just simply couldn’t concentrate on anything – I mean nothing. My fingers grew heavy, arms tingled with numbness and a fogginess that almost mimicked an out of body experience. It was like my mind and body were not in unison – my mind had a difficult time keeping up.

I still have this physical and cognitive experience today, but mainly at night and usually at the peak of anxiety.

Only recently have I been able to find the words to best explain the cognitive side of the experience, but even words do not suffice. (In my head) It is something that of an expanding balloon trying to be forced through the space of a pin hole. It feels as though my mind is separating from my body. I will often experience the feeling of weightlessness. It is as though there’s an infinitely growing space between consciousness and my reality – if I fight it, it grows bigger and bigger.

The experience is difficult to shake once it starts, but usually goes away in brief time. Nonetheless, it is something I have endured from anxiety over the years – as I have never truly been able to describe it’s meaning or reasoning.

From headaches, muscle aches or weakness, stiffness, mental fog, numbness, exhaustion, stomach pain, to literally making ourselves sick. The toll anxiety has on the body is real, and what’s truly amazing is the capability the mind has in affecting our bodies from it.

[mailerlite_form form_id=8]

Those who refuse to understand make my anxiety worse

As if we haven’t heard it all. “You’re overreacting about nothing”, “You’re thinking too much”, “You need to learn to just let it be and live life”, “You’re going to worry yourself to death if you don’t stop”, “Being this way – you’re going to push people out of your life.” As if that’s supposed to spark the light bulb, “Oh, you know what – you’re right. [Switch flipped] There we go! No more anxiety!” The thing is – the frustration of those who don’t understand why I can’t simply control my anxiety is the same frustration I have for myself. The difference being I feel this frustration all the time.

Because I have anxiety, there are probably those who think I am always this dreary, desolate, short-fused, boring, fearful, narrow minded, pessimistic individual. That’s not even near true at all. If I am to be frank, I go out of my given ability to try and not let my anxiety separate me from true happiness. It isn’t always easy, but nobody actually sees that except me!

And I’ll be the first to admit – I have strange and illogical fears that trigger my anxiety (ones that I really, really want to avoid, and avoid talking about because they’re embarrassing). Ones my husband doesn’t even fully know or understand, but I feel I have to eventually sacrifice these fears in order to not disappoint him.

So, in a way it’s easy for me to empathize with those who don’t know or understand my anxiety. I even catch myself thinking, “Carissa, you’re acting crazy – any normal person wouldn’t be acting this way…“, but at the same time I am always admitting to myself that I am the burden to others. That I am the one with a problem, and needing to compensate for it. Which in turn, makes my anxiety worse off in the end – the fact that I am not accepted and understood. 

I have just one word of the wise to those who know someone with anxiety: make yourself available to talk, listen, empathize and understand without trying to fix them or expecting them to change.