The Unglamorous Reality of My Anxiety Disorder

An anxiety disorder is not beautiful, nor should it ever be glamorized, along with any other mental illness. Having an anxiety disorder is not something that makes you look “cute and quirky.” An anxiety disorder is not just being scared to call someone on the phone or ask for extra ketchup with your fries. It’s not just being nervous before a final exam or going on a roller coaster for the first time.

No, anxiety disorders are going days without sleep because you are terrified of what your dreams may entail but then having to deal with your own mind as you lay awake for hours. Anxiety disorders are feeling like the pain of your ribs crushing against each other are enough to cause a fire from how much they burn. Anxiety disorders are wanting to scream but not having the strength to let one out. Anxiety disorders are letting out enough tears that a whole new ocean could be created. Anxiety disorders are losing complete feeling in your hands and legs as they sting with numbness. There is nothing, let me say it again, nothing, enjoyable about my anxiety disorder. It is a cry for help, for an escape.

It is not something to respond with by saying, “everyone has bad days” or “it’s just a phase.” It deserves more than, “Why don’t you just try to be happy?” as if it is that easy, as if I haven’t been trying for the past two years. Disorders should not be something others want to claim, degrading others who actually deal with them daily. They should not be brushed off or overlooked but instead given proper attention, care, and treatment.

I decided while attempting to “fix” my own anxiety, I would also want to fix the way anxiety is looked at. We deserve more than, “try to look on the bright side.” We deserve a brighter world, one diligent in aiding those who struggle with mental illness.

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Thinkstock illustration by Zoonar RF

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