I have a condition called Generalised Anxiety Disorder, along with an unkind dose of depression. Basically, I worry and fret a lot, feeling mostly anxious in some form. It could be about something I've done that I think may have upset someone (with or without proof), or something that may happen no matter how slim the chance may be, or something I feel I should have done or done better. I can become very distressed and overwhelmed by new situations, or whilst dealing with fairly simple pressures such as juggling public transport, driving in moderate to heavy traffic, shopping at the supermarket, in a not very challenging job, waiting in a queue, in large crowds, when I'm cold with no way to warm up in the short term, trying to find something I've misplaced, paying bills, and generally dealing with unexpected events.
I battle with this daily, if not hourly, and it can often be very debilitating. I suffer the most/worst when working, as I feel inadequate for very little reason and this then consumes me as I see more and more in the faces of those around me that perhaps they're just tolerating me, don't think much of me at all because I am weak. This may or may not be the case, and I guess it's the uncertainty that eats away at my self esteem. I then start to beat myself up mentally - I feel sick, miserable, very disappointed in myself and too emotional to keep a poker face. I usually end up teary, emotional and it's very embarrassing.
When it comes to social situations, I suffer similar feelings when meeting new people, however, my career isn't dependent on it. Unfortunately, though, my self confidence takes a massive blow from that oppressive feeling my mind generates, for no justifiable reason, that I'm just being tolerated, or that people would rather be elsewhere than listening/talking to me.
And my husband - bless him - is such a wonderfully easy going person, but he also feels very helpless on occasions when I'm in a blubbering mess on the couch, totally overwhelmed by feelings of absolute hopelessness, despondency. He wants to help me, heal me so much. This is lovely, but also very hard for me to deal with, as my mind messes with this and decides that I am much more of a burden on him than he should have to put up with. So, who should have to put up with the pits of despair I often end up in?
So, I have a saboteur inside me. No one else is doing this to me, so why would I do this to myself? Basically I do not choose to be like this, nor would I wish this sort of constant and enduring trauma, distres and sense of devastation on anybody else. I even get chest pains that can be very scary, as I feell ike I'm having a heart attack. They can last for hours. I've been checked out and my heart seems fine, however, it's still very scary, which adds to the panic and reinforces the chest pain = vicious circle.
One thing I realise is that I seem to want to prepare myself for whatever may come my way, particularly something that may shock or scare me, that is, any sort of bad news. I have to have control over something and be prepared, as I feel I have no control, that I am at the mercy of anything and everything that may come my way.
What often helps me is using very loud (literally and figuratively) self-reasoning (eg. Cognitive Behavioural Therapy), bawling my eyes out then sleeping for a few hours, seeing a counsellor, medication that I can raise or lower to help with my fluctuating distress, and escapism or distraction (egs. music, arty crafty activities, mindless TV, chatting with friends or family, surfing fun stuff online). It works about 70% of the time, if I have the opportunity to use it when I most need it. When I don't, this is where self-destructive activities can surface - these are primarily excessive alcohol, or actual self harm to break the hold the distress has on me. I hardly ever take my frustration out on others, I turn it in on myself. For example, I have this 'logic' that I am so dysfunctional that life in general is just too much, and I probably should have died before I was born, like some foetuses do that have a drastic physical abnormality. Extreme I know. But this is how my brain sabotages my outlook on life.
I have battled this for most of my life, with my first proper diagnosis of a panic attack at age 16. Twenty years, it's been. I hate what I endure and I hate the lack of assurity that I will ever improve and be able to hold a proper job, have a relaxed social life, or do the simple things again without such debilitating distress. I also hate the thought that I may have to put up with this for the next 40 or so years.
I do have a few theories about my situation:
- That I have a predisposition to anxiety - supersensitivity, guilt, excessive worry, rumination - which then gets combined with my extroverted personality. Basically I inherited much of my excessive anxiety. I can see it in my Mum, and my grandfather was a constant worrier. They say it can be up to 50% genetic. :(
- That I perhaps did not mature in certain parts of my brain. For example, I've watched how anxious toddlers and young children can be when put in uncertain situations, and I wondered if a part of me remained immature. I cry way too easily when distressed, which is often. I also "bounce back" quite quickly after reaching the depths of the misery. Sometimes within minutes.
- That many people, such as myself, have an effective "allergy" to the pace and intensity of modern society. That is, oversensitisation to a massive amount of stimuli along with consumerist pressures, a lack of strong community connection and support, and the battle to gain financial security for the present and future. (Egs. Wanting our humble home paid off by retirement age so we don't have big debts when on a lowly pension; or competing with so many others for temporary or short term jobs when there is also so little job security and loyalty from employers.)
Dayle
XXX
