October is Mental Health Awareness Month, so over the next few weeks I’ll be writing about my personal mental health experiences.
The first mental disorder I was officially diagnosed with was Generalized Anxiety Disorder. I was diagnosed and prescribed medication for the first time when I was eighteen, right before I graduated high school. My anxiety often manifested in the form of extreme paranoia, everywhere I went I was afraid that I was going to die a horrible, tragic death.
During this time (and still today), there was (is) a lot of horrible, tragic death in the news. I remember one of the first times I felt really anxious was when I heard about the shooting at Pulse Night Club in 2016. At the time I was still questioning my sexuality and I was no stranger to extreme ideologies regarding homosexuality.
I saw firsthand how stigma against homosexuality can harm a person mentally in their daily life, but that shooting showed me that I could get hurt physically as well.
I’m sure there were other factors, but now I’m pretty sure that a lot of my anxiety came from the stress of having questions about my sexual identity, and knowing that so many people in my life wanted to answer those questions for me.
Here is where things got worse before they got better. Also in 2016, another large scale attack was in the news. The Bastille Day terror attack in Nice, France happened just one month after the Pulse shooting.
The news felt heavy in my chest and accelerated my anxiety. After that, I felt unsafe in crowds almost everywhere.
At school, at work (I worked in a mall at the time), and even sometimes at church, I felt myself slipping into what-ifs and emergency escape plans. I was constantly wondering where I would hide, who I would protect, and what I would do if someone opened fire.
Waiting to die is no way to live.
During my senior year of high school, my anxiety became almost unbearable. I was losing sleep because I would close my eyes and physically hear screaming and gunshots. I didn’t want to wake up to go to school. My grades suffered, my friendships suffered, I was a mess.
That year was when I finally got help.
I began seeing the counselor at school as well as a therapist once a month. I was learning how to talk about things and got some vocabulary to describe my problems, but I still wasn’t getting a lot better.
After lots of pushing, I finally convinced my parents that I needed medication. I think I was better at hiding things than I give myself credit for, so things probably didn’t look as bad as they felt.
When I started medication, I saw a subtle shift that built into a solid emotional foundation. I was able to sleep and that made a lot of difference. My brain needed help storing up serotonin, and once it got what it needed I was able to make small improvements.
I had to face stigma for starting medication, but it was well worth it. Small improvements build up.
Now, I’m like a totally different person, I’m so thankful that I got help.
Two Quick Resources:
7 Cups of Tea - 7cups is a simple chat platform where people who are struggling can get a person to talk to or find an inexpensive online therapist. I volunteered with them for two years, so I’m a huge fan!
The Orbiting Human Circus (of the air) - Episode 4 of OHC contains a story that got me through a lot of panic attacks. It has a very soothing rhythm and will help you center yourself if you need a distraction.
Image: a picture I took on my way to class in 2017, when my anxiety was at its worst. I used to make a point to walk outside because it made me feel a little better.
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