Originally published 5 June 2019.
I haven’t posted here in forever! I had the best of intentions when I started journaling, too. I was going to post regularly with thoughts and tips about anxiety, and I would use my own difficult experiences to help others who were struggling. I know firsthand that it can feel like you’re the only one who experiences these things, and how much of a relief it is to know you’re actually not unique in your struggles. But somehow it fell by the wayside and I stopped writing.
I used to love writing. I have stories going on in my head almost all the time. I call it my “Inner Mind Theatre.” But it’s been years since I’ve actually written any of it down. I started writing a novel a while back. I even did some research for it. But I hit a block and never got past it.
I’m not sure what brought me back to this blog tonight. It just popped into my head that I should write an entry. I’ve been struggling with anxiety for the past few weeks, moreso than usual. I had what I’m pretty sure was a panic attack about 3 weeks ago, and ever since then I’ve been super-paranoid about my heart. I was minding my own business, not even worrying about anything consciously, and I began to notice my heart going faster than usual. And then I swore I could hear my own heartbeat. And it wouldn’t slow down, and I started to feel a bit dizzy. It was horrible.
It passed after around 15–20 minutes, but it pretty much finished me for the night. I knew it was a panic attack. I’d had them before, years ago, and I know intellectually that panic attack symptoms can make you feel like you’re having a heart attack. Plus I’ve been to the cardiologist (just went last month) and I know I’m fine. But that fear just won’t go away. Ever time I tell myself it was a panic attack, a little voice goes, ‘But what if it wasn’t?”
Being in an elevated state of anxiety for 3 weeks is not fun. I’m tired almost all the time, and find it hard to eat, even when I’m hungry. Every bodily sensation—good, bad, or indifferent—is magnified and watched warily, as if any feeling at all is a sign that something is wrong with me. I want this all to go away. But it doesn’t.
Tonight I finally gave in and took an Ativan. I try not to take that often, because it’s known to be addictive. And it really is. It completely knocks out any fear or anxiety. It lifts all of that weight off me for at least a glorious few hours, and it takes everything in me not to take it again when I feel it starting to wear off. But I took it tonight because I just need a break. I’m hoping it will be like hitting a reset button on my brain. That giving my brain a break will allow it to recalibrate and react more normally to life.
It’s discouraging, to keep coming back to this same place over and over again. I’ve gone through fairly long periods of time with little to no anxiety, and I always hope I’ve somehow managed to beat it. But it comes back. I’ve read books, listened to podcasts, mediated, prayed, talked to counselors and therapists, and gone on medication. I’ve done everything I can to combat this anxiety and it’s. Still. Here. Is it too strong for me? Is it even worth fighting any more?
Some of the research I’ve done lately says fighting it is the absolute worst thing you can do. They say people with anxiety disorder should instead accept the feelings of anxiety, and then commit to not allowing it to run our lives. I’m not entirely clear on what that means in practice. I think I’ve been doing it already. When I get scared and nervous about food, I still eat. But that doesn’t keep me from being anxious the next time I have to eat. But I can’t give up. Whether I fight it or accept it, I refuse to let this tense, exhausting feeling be my life. I have to believe I will get through it this time, just as I have in the past. I have to believe there will come a day when I don’t have to deal with this anymore. If I don’t believe that, the only thing left to do is give up. And I will never do that.
So maybe anxiety and fear have gotten the best of me for a few weeks. They won a few rounds, and they’ve got me tired and on the ropes. But I won’t go down. I’m still standing in the face of it, and I’ll continue to stand. Anxiety may have picked this fight for my mind, but I am determined to win.
“So put on all of God’s armor. Evil days will come. But you will be able to stand up to anything. And after you have done everything you can, you will still be standing.” – Ephesians 6:13, NIRV
