My anxiety story
Just one word. ANXIETY. Yes, I suffer from anxiety. This started 4 years ago when I was unaware as to what it really was and what was happening to me, my body and my reactions. I remember the day that I had enough of the feeling and I broke down in front of one of my teachers. I explained everything to her; she was very supportive and gave me the school contact for counselling. I had counselling sessions for 1 year. Did it help? In some ways yes, but it would never just disappear like that. First year of university approached and the journey up there wasn’t exactly a smooth ride. Dad had to stop about 3 times towards the end just so I could breathe and get out the car. I had plenty of breakdowns during that year and missed many classes because of this ‘mental illness’. I hate calling it a mental illness as it just makes me feel 100% worse. But every time the same phrases go through my mind over and over again, I can’t help but think “yes, I’m ill and I don’t know how to fix it”.
Second year of university was actually a lot easier. My anxiety wasn’t stopping me from a lot, I was attending lectures, being a lot more sociable and just generally more happy. However, my grades have suffered because of the amount of lectures I missed in first year and I’m definitely not expecting a first anytime soon. This is one thing which really frustrates me because I work so hard but I know I will never get those high grades. I’m not exactly using my anxiety as an excuse but you would understand if you suffered the way I do. It is the worst feeling I have to go through and I just want it to go away.
Third year. Where do I start? It has been a breeze until New Years Eve. Possibly one of the worst journeys I’ve ever done, up until this flight I am currently on writing this. The ‘feeling’ triggered half way down the metro and I had to run off at the next stop. I was with one of my friends and she was and looked very confused. She is my best friend here so I told her that night and she was incredibly lovely and supportive over it, it has made us a lot closer too.
Since then, it has majorly gone down hill. It’s been affecting me daily, from as soon as I wake up to when I go back to sleep at night. The week after NYE I couldn’t even leave my room unless I really had to. My friends eventually got me downtown which I managed just. It helps when I do journeys on my own so I can take my time and be more relaxed.
What about this flight? I don’t think I have cried, struggled, or looked more ill so much in one day (even though we are only 2 hours into this flight.) The feelings are coming back as to when this first started occurring when I was 16 and I can’t help but think it will stick with me for a longer time. Obviously I knew it would never just go like that. I’ve still had those days where I’ve suffered badly in the past but not daily and where I can’t even survive a 40 minute taxi ride.
The feeling is indescribable. I don’t want to go into detail because it isn’t nice how it affects me.