The story of how I kept my new year's resolution for 2017...one of them anyways.

Resolutions

This year has taken on a theme for me. With 2017 drawing to a close, I want to share some thoughts and experiences I’ve had regarding mental health. Specifically, Generalized Anxiety Disorder.

I’ve almost written lengthy Facebook posts about Generalized Anxiety Disorder multiple times, but after typing them up, I always deleted them because I felt icky about using such a heavy, personal subject to collect “likes” on Facebook or some other cheap form of validation. And I mean let’s be honest, it feels great when something you say gets over 50 likes or even get’s shared multiple times by your friends. I knew it would become about approval for me, so I decided I would just save my thoughts on anxiety disorders for people who specifically ask to hear them. Within the past several months though, I’ve had a lot of conversations with people who are also struggling. People who sought me out because they heard me mention in passing that I struggle with anxiety, and are looking for advice, moral support, or really just the knowledge that they’re not alone. I’m writing this because there’s a chance someone might find encouragement and insight from an honest recounting of where this year has taken me. A blog entry seemed like the best medium for this. I don't know if I'll write more posts after this one...we'll see. I've never been good at being consistent with my writing.

So yeah. This year’s theme. At the beginning of 2017, I had two resolutions. The first was to learn to play my ukulele. The second was to be more open with people about my anxiety disorder. I stayed strong with the first resolution just long enough to learn Ignition by R. Kelly and a handful of songs from La La Land. The second resolution required a lot more work.

Talking about anxiety is harder than it sounds.

Anxiety disorders take a natural instinct that’s there to save your life if you ever encounter a bear or something and turn the volume up to 11. All the time. This is accompanied by a myriad of physical symptoms. If you’re a person with an anxiety disorder, you are acutely aware of how unnatural it is to feel this way. You know it’s irrational. But your brain chemistry, for whatever reason, won’t allow you to calm down. Your body doesn’t know you’re just in a staff meeting at work and are not being attacked by a bear. It’s just responding to the signals your brain is sending. To keep from drawing attention to yourself for something so silly, you try to hide all evidence that you’re anxious. You develop coping mechanisms. You try to avoid things that might set you off. Some people are better at it than others. For me, talking about my anxiety is one of my biggest triggers. This is why my resolution to be more open with people about my anxiety scared the crap out of me. I had been to therapy, tried breathing exercises, herbal supplements and essential oils, but the anxiety would always return with a vengeance. I started to realize that most of the power it had over me came from my desire to hide it.

Owning it.

In an effort to become more comfortable with talking about anxiety, I started frequenting websites and message boards where people would commiserate and share stories and experiences on the subject. It’s easy to feel lonely when you’re dealing with an invisible problem that exists in your head, and finding a community to identify with can be comforting. Before long though, I noticed a tendency for the talk to be about not only coping with anxiety, but wearing it as a defining badge. I also noticed that it’s becoming trendy to talk about anxiety in pop culture, as if it makes you quirky or interesting. I dunno, I just have never experienced a panic attack that left me feeling anything but exhausted and defeated. It’s not glamorous, so we shouldn’t make it seem that way. While I wanted to be comfortable talking about having Generalized Anxiety Disorder, I felt like claiming it as “my anxiety” would lead to complacency. I didn’t want anxiety to be one of my defining qualities. I didn’t want to just live with it, I wanted to get better. 

Anxiety and Faith

Within some Christian circles, an anxiety disorder can be a tough subject to bring up. This year while I was at a Christian conference, there was a time set aside for everyone to pray for each other, for any sicknesses from which they needed healing. When I asked the person next to me to pray for me to be healed from Generalized Anxiety Disorder, the well-meaning gentleman proceeded to tell me to repent of my anxiety, and then laid his hand on my head and tried to banish it from me like a demon. He didn’t know me, had no information besides what I had briefly disclosed to him, and it made me feel super weird afterwards. I’m not saying that all believers have such an extreme perception of anxiety disorders, but I have noticed tendency to lump it into these two categories: disobedience and demonic influence. They think that since Jesus repeatedly says not to be anxious about anything, if your life is being taken over by anxiety, you must be living in disobedience to God’s word and your relationship with Christ must not be in a good place. And the intrusive, sometimes destructive thoughts that accompany anxiety disorders feel foreign and sometimes it’s hard to pin down why they’re happening. While the Bible does tell stories of demonic activity that influenced physical and mental behavior, I think Christians are sometimes too quick to blame negative thought patterns on things that are external instead of addressing internal or medical reasons that might be present. Mental disorders shouldn't be blown out of proportion, they should be treated like any other illness. There are steps that can be taken towards mental health, and we shouldn’t feel ashamed for talking about the disorder or seeking help for it. Fortunately, I have found that my home church is understanding of mental disorders, and supports its members with encouragement and prayer as they seek help. 

Prayer is important. I believe that God sometimes heals miraculously when we ask for it, and sometimes he lets us live with our difficulties, finding our strength in Him. He uses our weakness to showcase His strength. Anxiety feels like a terrifying loss of control. But really, any control I thought I had over life was only ever an illusion. In my darkest times, I had to act in spite of my anxiety, and rely on God for my next step. I’m grateful for that time of closeness even though it was painful. 

Getting Help

As I briefly mentioned before, I went to therapy for a short time a couple years ago. Talking to someone about my fears and insecurities was super difficult because it dredged up a lot of emotions that I had trained myself to hide. I think it was an important step though, because my therapist helped me identify the negative thoughts that I was obsessing over, and she also taught me to cut myself some slack. Many people are able to recover from anxiety through therapy alone, but that wasn’t the case with me. I had things that would calm me down. I practiced the breathing exercises I learned in my therapy sessions. I kept a container of lavender oil in my purse that I would smell if I got tense. I also had Bible verses that I would meditate on and I would try to work out the tension with aerobic exercise and yoga. I was functional, but the anxiety persisted. My brain had built up such powerful thought habits that wouldn’t be broken by breathing exercises or talking myself out of it. 

I had ruled out medication as an option. I always heard people say America is “over-medicated” and I didn’t really know anyone who took medication for something as seemingly trivial as anxiety. Or if I did, they definitely weren’t talking about it. I think it’s stigmatized because it’s viewed as the lazy way out. Plus, most of the Google searches I did yielded horror stories about the side effects of SSRI’s (selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors, the most commonly prescribed anxiety meds). Weight gain, lowered sex drive, mood swings…it just seemed like too much of a risk.

It wasn’t until a couple of my close family members started taking medication for their anxiety that I gave it serious thought. They talked about how they were finally starting to feel like themselves again. That’s what I wanted. I had gotten so tired of being a muted version of my former self. Constantly being in self-defense mode was keeping me from experiencing joy in my life and relationships. The turning point was a conversation I had this summer with one of these family members. I told her I was functional, to which she replied, “You’re functioning but are you LIVING?”

I wasn’t.

That’s when I decided to make an appointment with my doctor.

Medication

In August, after an assessment from my doctor and a blood test to make sure my thyroid was ok, I was prescribed the SSRI Setraline, which is off-brand Zoloft. The first night that I took it, I was scared and angry with myself that it had come to this. Why was I so weak that I needed a pill to feel like a normal person again? What about the weight gain and sex drive changes? My doctor had assured me that those side effects were uncommon, but she also said that SSRI’s affect everyone differently, and I wouldn’t really know how my body would handle it until I took it for two weeks. I’m really thankful that during this time, I had the support of my husband, my family and my church. Knowing that they were praying for me and that I could talk to them about it was huge.

Let me just say though, those two weeks were scary. With the first few doses, my body went a little crazy. I felt really nauseous but also really hungry at the same time. I had this numb, almost void sensation in my brain. It’s hard to describe. I also lost a few pounds. After a couple weeks though, all those side effects went away!

The majority of my anxiety manifests itself in social situations, so events, work and hanging out with friends typically leave me in a heightened state of tension. We’re talking stomach in knots, constantly fidgeting, getting flushed randomly, nervous sweats, leaving the room a lot…this was my norm. While hosting a work event about three weeks after starting on Setraline, I had the anxious thoughts as usual, but they didn’t stick around long enough to make me uncomfortable. It was like they showed up, we nodded at each other, and they went on their merry way. I made it through that event and enjoyed myself more than I had in a while. It felt like such a triumph!

Fast forward a few months…

I feel so different. I still have anxiety, and I probably always will to some degree, but it’s like the volume has been turned wayyyy down. It’s much more manageable now. I’m no longer in a constant state of mental self-defense. I’ve let my guard down which has allowed me to let people in. Turns out you miss a lot when you’re inwardly focussed all the time. I still have my ups and downs, but I’m thinking about myself less which allows me to invest more in my relationships. And I’m embracing change! This is a huge one, because change has always been hard for me to cope with. I grew out my bangs and colored my hair. It’s such a dumb little thing but it was a big deal for me! Also, I did karaoke for the first time! SOMEONE STOP ME I’M OUT OF CONTROL!!!

All joking aside…I’m experiencing such joy right now, and it’s coming from a sense of relief. I’ve had people tell me they’ve noticed a change. I was wary of being propped up by a false, medicated high, but that’s not what’s happened. It’s like what my close family members said, I’m learning how to be myself again. It’s good to be back.

All that to say:

If you’re struggling with your mental health right now, I encourage you to stop ignoring it. Get comfortable talking about it, but don’t stop there. Seek treatment, even if you just talk to a therapist. I know medication is not the answer for everyone, but don’t rule it out just because of the stigma. It has proven to be the most helpful option for me, and it might be for you too. You deserve to be more than functional, you deserve to live.

Sweetly broken,

Anna