Anxiety is different for different people. Some have what I call “normal anxiety”, which to me is stage fright, nervous during an interview, those normal situations where it’s normal to be anxious. For me, it’s like I’m a new actor on stage every day, and everyday I forget my lines even though I rehearsed them countless times. The lights are almost never on me, but for some odd reason they still blind me, and I’m scared.
I have anxiety.
My anxiety has brought on depression, some people’s anxiety is brought on by their depression. It can vary.
My mind over analyzes and over thinks, and jumps to conclusions in a matter of seconds. I think and speak fast, but my actions are frozen. Most times it feels like I’m stuck, I wonder if I should call my anxiety Medusa.
In ten seconds, I plan my whole day out and then criticize myself for doing so. And start again. Other times I try to push away my anxious over thinking by telling myself to not think about it, and instead get anxious about that. I plan what to wear the night before and then change my outfit completely in the morning. I think about how many minutes it’ll take me to quickly walk to school, and if there’s a train delay and I could be five minutes late. Some one says hi to me when it’s a bad day and I question it for the next few hours. As I race out of school, it isn’t because I’m glad to leave, it’s because I’m already creating a to-do list for when I enter my front door, which I usually end up forgetting about anyway.
That is a small description of some everyday experiences I had, let me explain what happens when I have an anxiety/panic attack.
It feels like you’re dying. (Most people have said that), some people even mistake it as a heart attack. Panic attacks can vary and be different for different people. I explain in my second entry to this topic what panic attacks are like for me and believe me when I say writing it almost gave me an attack.
Depression comes along to hang out too, because they’re the best of buddies.
Depression can come whenever, apparently they have a key to my brain as well, though I don’t remember making any keys.
Depression for me isn’t trying to get out of bed, anxiety helps me with that. Depression for me is just…nothing. Feeling like nothing. It sucks when depression and anxiety both try to take the front seat, like cold air and hot air, they form a tornado. My depressing thoughts contradict my anxiety thoughts, and it becomes incredibly hard to decide. Usually when I’m really anxious I feel stuck and it’s hard for me to move, let alone make a choice. And when depression is there poking me in the back too, it just makes it harder.
(Also I really like New Girl, so be prepared to see more in the future.)
Most people describe having anxiety and depression like, “It’s needing to do everything, but not wanting to do anything.” You feel so much emotion but at the same time you feel nothing and if you’re thinking what I’m thinking, you’re right, it is confusing. And it’s hard to explain because it’s so confusing.
Because it’s hard to explain, and because of other reasons, mental illnesses are stigmatized a lot. Or in some cases they’re over glorified and made out to be some cute quirk. You’re either crazy or cute, lazy or lonely, and etc. People talk about mental illness and act like all the person needs is a lover to come sweep them off their feet and give them a hug. Yes, having supporting people can help a person overcome their mental illness or cope with it, but one romantic partner will not automatically fix it.
I know. It sucks.
Anxiety isn’t being a little nervous and shy, depression is not being lazy or just lonely. It’s scary and it’s sad.
People (I also do this) make it out (especially depression) to be a joke. People either say they have it and make joke about being triggered, or make fun of others who do have it. Most people do this in a way to be funny, most people don’t mean harm when they joke like this. Even I joke like this. However, some days it’s a “bad day”, where I’m extra sensitive. Then on this day I hear one of these jokes and it feels like I was shot with an arrow. Sure I can pull the arrow out, but it’s gonna hurt.
Maybe the arrow isn’t even that sharp or strong, but it still hurts. I realize most of these people don’t understand whatever mental illness they’re joking about. It feels like I’m the only one who does know, even though I know that’s not true.
So yeah, thanks for reading and this topic is gonna be a series I do.
Sinnamon Tongue 