So of course when people find out I have anxiety, they like to give me their opinion of how they think I should cope with it. Though some are from people also suffering who like to share their techniques, most are from people who really have no concept of what having a mental health disorder is like, or they understand it psychologically, but have never actually dealt with it themselves.
I usually don’t mind talking things through with others who also have severe anxiety—it’s almost like some sort of therapy where you get to vent your frustrations and be truthful without judgement. That said, there are some who are so insistent that their ways are the only techniques that will work. I have noticed that this is usually part of their mental health issues: they just cannot seem to comprehend that the same practices might not work for others. Some get really pushy about this, but it isn’t as common as the attitude from those who have no personal experience with severe anxiety.
I have had so many people tell me ways to cope with my mental struggles, from changing the way I look at the world to changing my diet to just dealing with it and moving on. None of these are helpful and just tap into my rage, raising my frustration with society and its lack of understanding when it comes to mental health disorders. The Anxiety that plagues me is not from external stresses; it is only made worse by those factors. It will always exist because I cannot remove it, and the only techniques I’ve found to control it are to avoid most of society—something that is not possible in the modern world.
My biggest gripe with input from others is that they act like there is something wrong with me and I am refusing their magical cure. If controlling The Anxiety were as simple as thinking positively or changing my attitude, why would I continue to suffer? No, our society just assumes that if you have a mental health disorder, it’s because you are weak or because you are not trying, never mind that it is the very practices of our world that strengthen these mental health issues for a lot of people. Concerns like unaffordable housing, low wages, lack of decent healthcare—these increase depression and anxiety, and for those of us who already suffer, they just make it worse.
“Think Differently”
I know that most people are just trying to help, but, for me, other’s suggestions are usually just annoying and insulting. From the idea of “think positive” to “think differently” to the worst one, “find Jesus.” I grew up with a Mennonite mother and know all about Jesus—it never worked for me. All church did was make me bitter and angry. It was after I learned some of the Buddhist teachings, and later when I was introduced to the basics of Taoism, that I was able to let go of much of that anger. When people tell me that if I accepted Jesus, I would be free from anger, I just laugh—I was so much worse back when I considered myself to be a Christian.
Religion doesn’t solve problems. I learned balance through Buddhism and Taoism, which are more philosophies of life than religions. I have learned that if you are following the wrong religion—that is, a religion that is not compatible with your true self—you can never find balance. I learned to be a calm and assertive leader by watching The Dog Whisperer with Cesar Milan and by reading his books. Today, people look down on Milan’s techniques, claiming they are cruel, but they are missing the key point: it's about being calm and assertive. It’s about letting go of anger to take control of a situation.
My mind has a delicate balance, even with The Anxiety in there wreaking havoc. Just the slightest nod in one direction will cause it to come crashing down. I have not been able to find that balance lately, leaving my mind in a chaotic mess and open for The Anxiety to take control. Just when I start to feel some level of inner balance starting to return, chaos happens and the scale is tipped again. I don’t think I’ve had complete balance since 2016.
I group the “think positively” and “think differently” crowd into the same group. If I knew how to rewire my brain to bypass The Anxiety, I would do it. It’s almost as if they think I want to always be on edge and in a state of panic or anger. I most certainly do not, and I am appalled that anyone would think I don’t want to be the hero I used to be—the leader of the pack who inspired others. As for the positive thinking, that type of suggestion walks a fine line between a cheerful mindset and toxic positivity, which I have had the displeasure of dealing with far too many times. Still, thinking positively has never helped me in the past, often leading me to trust those whom I should never have trusted.
Exercise and Meditation
I have had many people suggest meditation or exercise. All these do is give The Anxiety more freedom to cause chaos in my head. I have learned that I can sometimes control it if I get involved in something that interests me, such as writing or working on Excel spreadsheets. When my mind is distracted with an activity in which I find value, The Anxiety cannot take control. This is why I have so many hobbies.
With exercise, if it is not something I find entertaining, like a game of badminton or maybe letting me punch something with weight behind it, The Anxiety is going to come out as irritability and then progress into anger. Even with my brief physical and occupational therapy sessions for my broken arm and frozen shoulder, I found that The Anxiety started to manifest as anger and frustration, which was then interpreted by the occupational therapist as Autism.
I wondered once or twice in the past if maybe I was on the spectrum, but, realistically, I do not fit the symptoms, especially the social aspect. I find it easy to connect with others, including those with Autism, which is what made me a great manager. I asked the occupational therapist why she thought that way and her answer was my lack of emotion in my face when I talk. That told me enough. No, I am not Autistic—I just have a general apathetic attitude toward repetitive exercise that I feel has no gain, neither in range of motion nor in muscle mass, and she was mistaking that apathy for Autism.
Then there are the mediation fanatics—those who act like it is a cure-all for life’s problems. In college, we were forced to try meditation in gym class and I found that The Anxiety runs rampant, my body gets angry, my mind becomes chaotic and extremely frustrated, and I end up feeling both stressed and angry. That was not my first experience with meditation, but it yielded the same results as previous attempts. My ADHD brain continues to run rampant, and without a distraction, The Anxiety rears its ugly head.
These meditation people insist I was instructed incorrectly, or that I need to try again, or any number of other excuses as to why it did not work for me. Again, I think they fail to understand the uniqueness of my situation, or of anyone’s situation. Anxiety manifests differently in everyone and there is no right answer that fits the entire group. If it were as simple as exercise or meditation, I would have control over The Anxiety by now. I am glad it works for them, but it only makes things worse in my head, as if The Anxiety were adding explosive cars to those freight trains I described in Part II.
Medication
My doctor tried medication once—just once. It was after The Anxiety forced me to leave my job at Goodwill. I was traumatized by an accident that nearly killed an employee and I just did not feel safe in that environment. The lack of a working bathroom for two weeks didn’t help—we were forced to walk to the grocery store next door any time we had to go, and since I was a key holder, I was not supposed to leave the store without another member of management there.
It was an extremely chaotic environment from the beginning, but I had decided to stay because I am good at organizing chaos. Then the accident happened. No amount of management training can prepare a person for so much blood. One of the other employees was casual about it, as if I were being overdramatic—she had worked as a nurse, so that was not a big deal to her. I have never worked in the medical field because I prefer to avoid all bodily fluids. Dealing with bathroom messes at both craft stores was far more than enough for me; I didn’t need to deal with blood too.
The situation increased the power The Anxiety had over me and I dreaded returning to that store. I quit a few days later, relieving myself of the stress and judging looks from the other employees. That was when my doctor prescribed me the lowest dose of citalopram. I will admit that I was excited at the thought of being kind of normal again—that is, not feeling like I am in a state of panic whenever anything happens that I cannot control.
Unfortunately, it caused itchiness, insomnia, fatigue, my first full hot flash, and increased my suicidal thoughts to a scary level. I am grateful that I was able to recognize it was the medication causing me to consider suicide, so that side effect, combined with the other side effects, told me to stop taking it. My doctor never tried another one, claiming that I was better just because I was much more cheerful during my next visit, which was a couple days after publishing The Fabric Manager. Anyone would feel happy after completing their second book. It’s like a rush that lasts a week or two…until you see the sales stats and realize that, once again, you cannot even eat lunch off of royalties for the two books that sold.
I am open to other medications, but I am also hesitant because of what happened with the citalopram. It doesn’t help that medication usually affects me more than others. Maybe it’s because I rarely take anything, or maybe I inherited my grandma’s condition, which I’m told had something to do with her bilirubin. All I know is that I am tremendously sensitive to medication, so I usually only take half of the recommended dose for adults. This condition is probably why the medication for my hypothyroidism caused The Anxiety to spike.
The Root Cause
When others insist with their suggestions, it makes me realize that they either do not understand what it is like to have crippling anxiety, or they think that I actually want to live with The Anxiety—an illness that mentally restricts me from doing things I once enjoyed. No, I would love to be normal again, but that is not the hand I was dealt, so I have to continue on, trying to find what actually works for me.
The truth is, there are traumas in my past that I think helped to form this problem that was later amplified by that 2016 illness and, after my hysterectomy, menopause. I suspect genetics work against me, too, and feel that The Anxiety is a bit of both nature and nurture: it was likely there from the beginning but was made worse with events that happened throughout my life.
My personality was molded into an image that is not my true self, which creates a rift in my head. There is the real me who stands her ground, and then there is the exterior me who was beaten into a more submissive character through years of being reprimanded, both at home and at work, and told to let others have their way. Exterior me often lets others get away with what they shouldn’t while the true me is screaming inside my head. Sometimes this works out well, like not getting into fights with strangers out in public, even if they are wrong.
Unfortunately, this mindset also makes me too accommodating, making it hard to say no when someone asks a favor, which sometimes means my own work suffers or I become too overwhelmed with tasks. I am strong when it is extremely important, but too weak at times when I need the true me to at least say something. My true self will come out if I am angry enough but can be easily overtaken by rage. This more docile version of me has allowed bosses to walk on me and treat me like crap, except for a few months at the wine shop and part of 2018 at the craft store.
In reality, my mental health problems are far greater than a simple problem solved by a self-help book, changing how I look at the world, or speaking with friends over ice cream. I am well aware that I need a therapist, and yet I am unable to get help because of a combination of issues, including the lack of available non-religious therapy in our area, the restrictions of my insurance and finances, and my inability to do video chats because of The Anxiety. I am restricted by the area where I currently live and by The Anxiety itself, almost as if it were an alien in my head who knows I am trying to remove it.
Perhaps the answer to my problems is to go live in a deciduous forest among the wildlife, away from people, and just write books. Sadly, that is not an option for those of us too poor to purchase property or live without a steady income. Until then, I will continue my daily struggles with The Anxiety that plagues my mind until someday I can find some level of peace that lets me regain that precious inner balance.