Living With Anxiety

There was something bittersweet about figuring out that I had an anxiety disorder.

My entire life I always felt a little different. Even as a child, I would wonder what was wrong with me. How come I always felt like an outcast? Better yet.... how come I always felt nervous about absolutely everything I did?

Coming from a family that lived in Armenia most of their lives, they never really saw this anxiousness as something serious. I was just a "shy" kid. As I got older, this feeling intensified. In high school, I was a very active person. I masked the anxiety by keeping myself busy: sports, student government, dance clubs, choir, musical theater, you name it! If it was an extracurricular activity, I wanted to do it. I was an overachiever in the eyes of my teachers, friends, and family. Even in my eyes, I was such an outstanding, well-rounded student. But when confronted with any sort of adversity, I would panic. I would spiral into anger, I would try to reach this perfection that, deep inside, I knew would never come, which in return caused me more stress. I just thought this was normal. "All teenagers my age go through this, it's the hormones and the stress of trying to get into a University." I told this to myself daily. In fact, this type of anxiousness was so common that even my high school counselor would tell me the same exact thing.

Four years of high school and tons of extracurricular activities later, I graduated and went to the California State University of Northridge. Not the best of the best college to attend since I worked so hard to keep an almost perfect GPA all through my high school career.

College was a little bit more challenging... not because of the academics or classes, but because I didn't have outside activities to keep me busy, and keep my anxiety at bay. It was rough. I hated not being part of a team, I hated not being able to contribute to something outside of school. In my eyes, it wasn't easy to find something "extra" to do in college. It felt way more challenging, and it felt like I didn't fit in anywhere... it felt as though everyone was better than me at everything. I was no longer the star overachiever of my school... which in turn gave me more anxiety. So I joined the hip hop dance team at the university. The audition went great and I made the team with flying colors. But it wasn't enough. After a few months, and couple shows later, I quit.

Back to having nothing to do with my free time, something else caught my eye... partying.

I had some friends from high school who were joining a fraternity on campus, and they invited me to their rush parties. I had found something to keep my mind busy... alcohol and marijuana. Every night, there was something to do. Every night, there was a party to attend, or someone to hang out with, someone to get high with. I loved it. I finally felt normal and I felt like I fit in.

Years went by, and I fell further and further into the party scene. The alcohol and weed turned into drugs. And soon I was using regularly. Hopping party to party and escaping reality one fix at a time, covering up the real sadness and anxiety that lived inside me.

Years went by, and eventually I quit the drug use and alcohol, but I kept using cannabis. It would help conceal the truth that I was avoiding to live for the next half a decade. For five years, I smoked every single day, all day long. Little did I know, this was making my anxiety even worse. I would get instant satisfaction from taking a hit, but eventually would return to my normal, anxious self within 20 minutes.

On May 8, 2019, I had my first panic attack.

I smoked as I usually do, but around 11 AM, I felt my heart race incredibly fast. I became hyper-aware of my heartbeat, and my chest started to tense up. It came out of nowhere. I wasn't expecting it. I thought "this is it," all the smoking and drugs are finally catching up to me, and I'm about to have a heart attack. This thought caused me to panic even more. I started hyperventilating, couldn't catch my breath, and then my hands went numb. That's when I really started to freak out.

Everything became very foggy. I walked outside, called my boyfriend to leave work and come help me, and started running scenarios in my head about what will happen once I have a heart attack and die.

At this point, I felt like I was going to pass out. I felt the lightheadedness come on. I didn't know what to do, so I instinctively called 911.

The ambulance came. My heart rate was through the roof. My blood pressure was extremely high. But the paramedics didn't seem concerned. They told me I was having an old fashioned panic attack.

I was confused. What had just happened?

This was the rude awakening that had been waiting to slap me in the face. No more cloaking this feeling. No more trying to escape my day to day life. I had to get sober.

I quit smoking cold turkey. I stopped using cannabis and tobacco. After the first two days, I had another panic attack. This time, I thought I was having a stroke. Again, I thought "this is it, I was too late and everything I've done is catching up to me." The whole right side of my face went numb, my arms started tingling, my head started hurting. I called the ambulance yet again, had them show up only to tell me that I was having another panic attack.

I got a nice little, expensive ride to the ER again.

That wasn't the last time I went to the emergency room. For the next week, I went back about four times. They gave me so many scans and EKGs and blood tests, but everything came back normal.

Finally, they gave me some anti-anxiety medication to take home so I could avoid coming back.

Terrified that I was going to get addicted to yet another substance, I didn't want to take them. So I kept having panic attacks; I kept having anxiety. Eventually, I gave in and took the medication for about a week. It helped tremendously. After the week was over, I stopped taking them and I felt the anxiety creep back in. "I can do this without the meds," I kept telling myself.

So after a few weeks, the anxiety still lingered. I went to my primary doctor, and she diagnosed me with an anxiety disorder. Prescribed me with more medication that I did not want to take (I still haven't touched them to this day).

When the doctor told me I had an anxiety disorder, I really started to think back to my past... hadn't I always felt this way? Wasn't I always feeling like the weight of the world was on my shoulders?

I wish there was a happy ending to this story. But the reality is, I will never be "normal." I will never feel the calm that I used to feel when I would get high, or when I would drink every day.

Anxiety and panic disorders are a life long struggle. Things will never be fully clear for me, but you know what? I have come to accept who I am.

This is part of my life. But the one thing that seems to keep me pushing through is the fact that I know what is happening now. I'm not constantly lost or tortured by the nagging feeling of anxiety. I know what it is, and now I know how to handle it.

My biggest advice to anyone struggling with this on a daily basis... do not mask it with drugs or alcohol. Confront it. Look it right in the eye, and tell it it's a liar! Do your best every day to make healthy decisions: exercise, healthy diet, healthy hobbies, meditation.

If you have anxiety, but don't give your body, mind, and soul the healthy fuel that it needs, then you aren't giving yourself a chance.

To all my anxious and panicky friends... hang in there! Life gets easier once you face all your demons!