It’s Normal to Make Yourself Sick From Worrying: My Relationship With Anxiety

Anxiety is one of those things that I openly admit I have. I don’t try to hide it. It wasn’t until a few months ago that I was able to have a confirmation of this.

I have been dealing with anxiety for the vast majority of my life. I was only recently diagnosed officially with a generalized anxiety disorder (GAD) back in June. I also have ADHD that I have struggled with since the age of 9. But this new diagnosis of anxiety didn’t offer any new comfort or insight like I thought it would. Instead, it became a confirmation and validation and a new way to consider acceptance of something that I’ve battled with most of my life.

It was always there

I can always remember being anxious and high-strung as a kid. I used to brush it off as I was easily excitable. My ADHD (then ADD) caused me to believe that my impulsive decisions were a result of excitability. I used to have this driving need to get everything right the first time, and if I didn’t, I would grow upset and shut down. I was nervous if I couldn’t do it right the first time. I had to make friends right the first time. First impressions were everything. There were no do-overs or take-backs. What happens if I did something wrong that would cause me to be rejected and remembered? The growing fear and dread were something I got used to living early on.

But it wasn’t just social interaction. There were many nights as a child struggling with my parents doing homework where I would grow angry I wasn’t as smart as the other kids or there was something wrong with me. This, of course, was before my first diagnosis of ADD was first identified. But I also had anxiety about not being able to perform correctly the first time and the impending fears that went with it.

To compensate for these deficiencies early on, I learned that saying sorry was key to deterring any worst-case disaster that may or may not occur. Also, keeping to myself and creating false beliefs of being worthless and downplaying my talents helped too. As I got older, it only grew worse.

Physical illness, insomnia, and learning to cope

Anxiety as a disorder is actually quite interesting with the ability to trick and fool the mind. By the age of fourteen, the weekend before I started high school, I made myself incredibly nauseous because I was so nervous. By fifteen, I went 24 hours without sleeping because of some worry that I can’t even remember. By 16, insomnia and staying up all hours of the night because my mind kept playing what-if scenarios of worst-case possibilities. I had become automatically program to apologize, even if things weren’t my fault or I had no control over.

At this point, anxiety was just a word for the thing that was supposed to be momentary. The reason why I experienced this more was just that I was afraid of doing it. Afraid of being let down. Afraid of being rejected. Afraid of failing. I was just afraid.

That simple explanation was enough but it didn’t help. I was told I just need to get some courage and get over myself. I was making it out worse than it actually was. Once I went through an experience and learned the world didn’t end, things in life would get easier because I knew what to expect.

But that anxiety I had never really left. Some days were better than others, but it was constant.

As I got older, it did get better in some respects. I credit this to two things: my experience working in restaurants and customer service and the old adage that experience comes with age. During my 20s, I worked in restaurants ranging from serving, bartending, and management. The social situations and unpredictability of the work environments forced me to confront my social fears head-on and learn to think on my feet. I also experienced a lot more things in life verses I had in high school like dealing with friendships and relationships.

By then, I had learned that I was just an anxious person and joked that it was just another normal trait-like my eye or hair color. It was normal to be anxious. It was normal to be worrying about the worst case. It was normal to make yourself sick sometimes because you were so anxious and scared.

Covid-19 and mental health

At the time, it felt like I was alone.

Back in March 2020, like a lot of people, my world shut down and was changed overnight. Lockdown, working from home, fear about the unknown and this new virus. It pushed my anxiety over the tipping point.

I struggled feeling like I had some sort of control. I was having daily panic attacks. My insomnia and nausea returned in full force. I slept on my couch for the months of March and April with my tv on because it somehow felt safer than rather than in my own bed. There were multiple days where I would be up for 24 hours straight; one day I was up for 36 hours straight. I struggled with working from home and isolation. I wouldn’t visit anyone in fear of getting covid.

By June 2021, I had regained some sort of control. I had talked to my main doctor to try and figure Those two months of living in a constant state of anxiety had shifted something in me. I had also struggled with my depression as well. I found that anxiety and depression had created this horrible, self-repeating loop I wanted to escape.

While I had done online therapy for the past three years, I was determined to grow serious about and try to break this cycle I had found myself in.

The diagnosis and treatment

After the debacle that first lockdown and covid-19 caused, it took a while to get to a point of actually confronting what was wrong with me.

I’ve been on and off anti-depressants since 2015. I had grown more serious with seeking treatment for this issue as 2020 concluded. But in June of this year, I made an appointment with a psychologist for a psychological evaluation. I was afraid to know what was wrong with me. I was afraid what was wrong with me couldn’t be fixed.

Two things among the results that were diagnosed were ADHD (combined type) and Generalized Anxiety Disorder. It reconfirmed the ADD (now ADHD) diagnosis but it also gave credence to what I had been feeling all my life with my anxiety. It gave me a starting point to figure out a course of action. It also gave me hope that I could manage the anxiety that has plagued me throughout my life.

I go to therapy weekly. I’ve adjusted the meds I am on to help address the ADHD and anxiety. I’m still not where I would like to be but I have made progress. One thing that has disappointed me is that trying to figure out how to live with anxiety is not an easy fix like getting stitches or getting surgery. It’s a process. This fact isn’t easy to accept, especially since I want to fix what I view as a problem.

I’ll continue to work on my therapy, chip away at triggers for my anxiety and my false beliefs, and hopefully, learn to co-exist with my anxiety. I joked that my anxiety was a natural extension of me before I even had confirmation it actually was.

Now, with time and work, I’m positive I’ll find acceptance, learn to live my anxiety, and make it a useful tool rather than let it run my life.