I can never quite predict when anxiety will strike. You’d think that after all these years, I’d recognize some sort of signal before it hits. The circumstances may vary; different locations and faces are involved, yet the sensation remains constant.
I first became aware of my anxiety when I was around eight years old. My older siblings were engrossed in the original Friday the 13th movie. I crept down the stairs to catch a glimpse, not fully grasping that it was all fiction. After watching, I was overwhelmed with thoughts of someone harming me. That night, I woke up drenched in sweat. The feeling surged from within me: my stomach twisted in knots, my heart raced, and breathing became a challenge. I attempted to call for my parents, but I felt frozen, trapped by fear. Little did I know, that was my first anxiety attack.
Anxiety has shadowed me for as long as I can remember. My initial trigger was the thought of earthquakes. I would lie in bed concocting an escape plan in case one struck during the night. I had heard they sound like a train before the shaking starts, so any noise would send me into action mode. Although the rational part of my mind assured me that there was no earthquake, my anxiety always prevailed.
As I grew older, my anxiety transformed into a more debilitating force. I fixated on car accidents, airplane malfunctions, home invasions, the loss of my parents, mass shootings—anything that provoked fear gripped my mind. Social anxiety, generalized anxiety, test anxiety, compulsive tendencies, constant worry—I’m not sure which anxiety type emerged first. Everyday tasks became monumental challenges as I viewed them through a lens of apprehension. I would spend more time planning and double-checking to ensure nothing was overlooked, often repeating myself for comfort.
Then came the moment I finally voiced the three words I had found so hard to say. I was 40 years old. During a visit to my doctor, she asked all the diagnostic questions, and as I scanned the list, I noticed the majority of my responses were marked “yes.” It was the first time I truly acknowledged that anxiety had entrenched itself in my life.
After completing her questionnaire, my doctor asked me to articulate how anxiety affected me. I stumbled over my words, struggling to convey why I felt this way. I wanted to shout, “Have you seen my nails?” They were non-existent, a testament to the anxiety that turned my energy into compulsive behaviors. My thoughts felt suffocating, and I struggled to express the overwhelming nature of my emotions. Finally, I confessed that my anxiety is paralyzing, that I fear it, and that I’m uncertain if it will ever dissipate.
She reassured me that with the appropriate treatment plan, I could regain control. Control. Isn’t that what anxiety is—an urge to manage situations I fear? Perhaps the key to treatment lies in learning to relinquish control.
I recognize that my worries often lack logic. Irrational, illogical, emotional—those words encapsulate the chaos in my mind. Sometimes, all I wish for is a pause button. I constantly seek reassurance, often feeling the need to apologize to those around me for needing repeated reassurances that everything will be okay.
I can only imagine how challenging it must be to live with me; loving me is likely even harder. I know my actions can seem unreasonable, but they feel so real to me. At times, the exhaustion is overwhelming, and while my body begs for relaxation, sleep eludes me.
I can’t say if my anxiety will ever fully leave me or if I’ll wake up one day free from its weight. However, I do recognize that on certain days, anxiety doesn’t dominate my thoughts. I’ve discovered that on those days, there’s a consistent theme: I choose to embrace hope. When I lead with my heart, I find my body calms down. Breathing becomes easier, my thoughts clear, my smile genuine, and life feels vibrant. Over the years, I’ve learned that my journey is filled with hope, and I don’t have to let anxiety define me.
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Summary
In this reflective piece, Emily Carter shares her long-standing battle with anxiety, beginning from childhood and evolving into a profound part of her life. Through her journey, she acknowledges the irrationality of her fears while emphasizing the importance of hope and self-acceptance. Despite the challenges, Emily finds solace in leading with her heart, allowing her to experience moments of clarity and joy.