The Reality of the Anxiety I Could No Longer Hide

I have anxiety and experience panic attacks, but that’s perfectly OK. This is a part of my life at the moment, I cannot change that this has happened to me, but I can change how this affects me. I have to be strong to fight this mental illness. I am not my illness.

My anxiety consists of:

Trying to breathe but feeling suffocated from forgetting to breathe.

Losing feeling so my whole body goes numb, and I need to move, but I cant move.

Feeling too little, yet feeling too much.

Encompassed by pain, tears, worry, desperately trying to fight it.

Drowning in tormenting thoughts.

Attacks coming slowly, then all… at… once.

Each attack varying – different, unpredictable, impulsive – punishing in its own individual cruel-binding way.

Crying instinctively, due to feelings of a lack of safety, security and comfort.

Having everything I want and need, yet struggling despite this.

Attacks corrupting me when I’m at my happiest and at my lowest.

Not knowing a trigger.

I am yet to know what’s caused my anxiety. That doesn’t mean I can’t fight this.

A bad day is…

continuous panic attacks,

uncontrollable upset,

concaving chest pain,

struggling to breathe,

saying I am OK when I am not,

feeling like I lack control of my mind and body,

feeling trapped, like there’s a lock on my health, and each day it gets tighter or looser,

feeling like a burden when I’m not,

being scared to ask for help when I need it the most,

getting frustrated with myself: Why am I not I better yet? Why am I like this? When will this cycle of internal agony be over?

having attacks:

when I wake up,

when I go to sleep,

in school,

not in school,

when I’m surrounded by people,

when I’m alone,

being in a constant state of nervousness and anxiety,

stressing over irrelevant things,

always thinking the worst,

losing sleep because my mind is too busy,

missing school,

missing social situations,

missing out on my teenage life,

just constantly worrying.

A good day is…

when I feel good about myself,

when I feel in control,

feeling safe and secure,

accepting change,

remaining calm when things go wrong,

getting to school,

spending time with those I love,

being in social situations,

eating well,

sleeping well,

being alone and being OK,

being with people and being OK,

not letting negative thoughts suffocate me,

knowing I am loved, wanted, needed and appreciated,

knowing I am not an inconvenience,

when people don’t mind helping me,

when people ask me if I am OK,

when I can feel happy,

when I can feel normal,

when I can feel OK.

I know what I want and need, and it is important for me to drop any negative parts of my life that cause me worry.

I can always help myself; I still need support. I need comfort from others, just like everyone else does. It is important for them to understand that my anxiety is not a personal attack on them.

Communication is the biggest help; distance is the worst.

No one should have to fight this alone. Anxiety can isolate you, making you feel like you are in a cage and everyone else is looking in… watching you slowly deteriorate, as your thoughts corrupt you. Holding onto the positivity in your life can bring so much happiness, while erasing the negativity can bring you a certifying closure. You may not always have answers, and that’s OK.

There were days I was too scared to ask for help, as I chose to believe other people have enough going on without me “burdening” them with my issues. So I disguised my pain. How would my friends understand that I lie awake at night terrified of them seeing me in a state of weakness? I couldn’t bear the thought of the emotional scars I’d enveloped myself with being disclosed. It took time, but I eventually realized everyone deserves to get the help they need. I am not my illness.

I bore my wounds. I got the truth.

By changing the “i” in “illness” to a “we” in “wellness,” I felt security from those who loved me. I was assured I was making them proud. The weight of my illness no longer fell on just my shoulders. I didn’t need to run away and hide, fighting my attacks by myself because someone was always there. I was picked up, supported, and brought on a journey — a journey of health, happiness and comfort – that I never got from being alone.

Positivity, patience and praises became the instruments to my recovery.

Inevitably, I still have days where I am tainted by my anxiety. But there are days I exceed any expectations I have of myself. Certainly, the good days surpass the bad days.

I accepted my mental illness I could no longer hide, and I became strong.

“Onwards and upwards,” a teacher encouraged me with today.

Onwards and upwards.

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To the Friend I Fear Is Tired of Giving Me Reassurance

Editor’s note: If you experience suicidal thoughts, the following post could be potentially triggering. You can contact the Crisis Text Line by texting “START” to 741-741.

Dear friend who might be sick of me asking if you still like me as a person,

I want you to know, for every time you have to answer the same question that grates on your nerves, there were probably 10 other times when I wanted to ask it, but I didn’t. Maybe this time I asked because I couldn’t handle the pain and anxiety that made me want to leave this world behind, just so I don’t have to deal with this self-hating neurosis anymore.

It literally controls everything I do. It’s why I don’t sing out loud or dance in public, instead only in my house when the drapes are pulled together and the blinds rolled down. It’s why I’m afraid to say “hi” to people, because what if they don’t say hi back? Or tell somebody I like their shoes, because what if they ignore me? Or tell a mom, “Hey, your kid’s cute,” because what if she thinks I’m a pedophile? And knowing how ridiculous it is all seems doesn’t reduce the pain in my chest, the obsessive thoughts or the simmering panic attacks, and as much as I want to cry, I can’t.

Most forms of emotional release such as exercise, singing and dancing are too anxiety-inducing to do, because what I’m doing it “wrong?” Do I look silly, fat, ugly? “I bet my glasses make me look dumb.” It runs through my head every single day, and I hate it, and its pure-black hatred, not your mere possible annoyance of texting me, “No, I still care about you. I love you.” And it’s those words which bring me enough joy to fight the pure-black hate for at least that moment of free-falling panic.

Please keep typing those words.

If you or someone you know needs help, visit our suicide prevention resources page.

If you need support right now, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255, the Trevor Project at 1-866-488-7386 or text “START” to 741-741.

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A woman covering her face with her hands. 22 things that don't always fix anxiety, even though you mean well

22 Things That Don't Always 'Fix' Anxiety, Even Though You Mean Well

When a person we care about comes to us with a problem, naturally, we want to fix it. But not every problem can be solved by a simple suggestion, and not everyone who wants support is seeking unsolicited advice. This is especially true when someone opens up about struggling with anxiety — and is a key difference between showing someone support and belittling their disorder with a suggestion or a “quick fix.”

Because more than advice, people with anxiety need understanding. To learn what people with anxiety don’t need to hear, we asked people in our mental health community to share one piece of unhelpful advice they’ve gotten for managing anxiety, from people who meant well but don’t get it.

Here’s what they shared with us:

1.Yeah, I’ve been stressed out too. Just remember there are others who have it worse than you. Be happy for what you have.” — Adriana R.

2. “Pretty much any advice that starts with, ‘You just need to…’ is going to skyrocket my anxiety. It’s like telling a downing person, “you just need to stop drowning.” — Carolyn A.

3. “‘You are giving too much power to that anxiety. You have a choice, so choose to not be anxious’ …Ugh. That came from someone who has never experienced anxiety themselves!” — Kristina C.

4.‘Pray about it.’ Although I’m Christian and love my God, people don’t seem to realize it’s a real thing. I need medicine to keep my head from spinning.” — Skylar L.

5. “[It’s unhelpful] being told to think of the positive and be thankful for everything I have. Most of the time that only makes me feel more guilty for feeling this way because I do have a lot of wonderful things in my life.” — Ashley S.

6. “The whole grounding yourself thing. Personally it just doesn’t work that way… So when I try something, don’t get pissy because it worked for someone else but I ‘didn’t try hard enough.'” — Kayla A.

7. “‘Just use your logic. What you’re feeling is ridiculous, you should know that. If you tell yourself that, the anxiety will go away.’ As if I don’t already understand that what I’m feeling is illogical, it doesn’t stop me from from feeling anxious, it just makes me feel worse about myself and my situation. — Liss W.

8. “‘…Oh, everyone gets nervous though so just don’t worry,’ after I’d just opened up to someone about my mental illness to be brave and have them understand a little more about me. It didn’t help, it shut me down and downplayed what I go through (and what others go through). It’s not just nerves.” —  Cathy R.

9. “Anyone that uses the word ‘just’ before providing ‘tips’ needs to consider the thought that if it was ‘just’ that easy then we could ‘just’ ‘get over it.’ I’ve been told life isn’t that bad, read the Bible, remember how wonderful your life is, I’ve had something similar, ‘just’ breathe and meditate and pray. If you’re anything like me, you’ve read books and articles on how to get a hold of it and you’ve tried meditation and yoga and exercise. The brain has its own mind when neurotransmitters are stuck in a loop.” — Mike P.

10. “My biggest pet peeve is when I’m feeling anxious about something or everything and someone tells me to relax. If I could relax, I wouldn’t be anxious. That makes me feel worse about my anxiety because I can’t just turn it off.” — Robin D.

11.‘Just go jogging.’ Every time I saw my psychiatrist, this was all she would suggest. I get this can help for some people, but when you are borderline agoraphobic, it was not the best.” — Karen M.

12. “‘Just get over it.’ This came from my high school teacher who said my anxiety was made up. Yeah, because I wanted to be miserable and afraid of so much for years.” — Audrey Y.

13. “One bit of advice I get given is ‘you need to stop worrying.‘ That really is not a helpful piece of advice to give someone who worries all of the time. If I was able to stop I would. That is the advice that gets me more frustrated because then I think people don’t understand what it’s like to be in my situation.” — Robyn B.

14. “Back when I was undiagnosed and my social anxiety was much worse, I was working with my first job and a co-worker pulled me aside to say, ‘I used to be shy like you, but I eventually got over it! You just need to get out of your shell and stop being so quiet all the time.’” — Skyler S.

15. “‘You’ve just got to stop thinking about [whatever they believe is causing the anxiety].’ I understand their reasoning, but it’s not that easy to switch off and sometimes I don’t even know what triggered my anxiety.” — Georgie R.

16. “Try taking [name your preferred herb/Rx/food/beverage/etc.].” While the attempt to help is kind, please just assume I’ve read 92,832 articles that each told me various ‘things’ I can take to help reduce anxiety, and none of them actually work.” — Jessi W.

17.‘Everyone gets anxious, it’s normal.’” Yeah, tell that to my panic attacks and inability to get a job.” — Rae H.

18.‘You need a hobby,‘ is one I’ve had that is pretty ridiculous. I don’t ever choose to be in bed all day instead of out doing other things. I have hobbies; I play video games, guitar, draw, write, bake, lots of different things, but if I’m not doing these it’s not by choice. And to suggest that I ‘join a club or go to a class’ sounds like the most terrifying thing for a person with bad anxiety. Then to add, ‘Maybe you would actually make some friends.’ Yeah, thanks, mate…” — Rosie F.

19. “Lots of advice relating to diet. Go paleo, go vegan, yada yada. Yeah, I’m genetically predisposed to anxiety and depression and an abuse survivor. Never mind that I eat unprocessed foods anyway. But I’m sure giving up rice or chicken will ‘fix’ me.” — Krystal N.

20. “Things like, ‘Just relax,’ ‘It’s all in your head, everything is fine,’ and, ‘You should try ____.’ are really unhelpful. I’m obviously trying to calm down, I know it’s in my head, don’t tell me things I already know, and if what you’re suggesting I try was something that helps, then I would be doing it already.” — Matt A.

21.‘That’s OK. Lots of people get nervous about _____.’ Also, when people talk about real everyday fears and call them anxieties. For example, someone said everyone feels anxious. Some people are anxious about making rent. Yes, it is a very difficult situation if you lose your job and you may get evicted, but that is very logical. It is different than when I just can’t make myself do something in a room full of friends and family and have no idea why it even stresses me.” — Lauren S.

22. “What they hear themselves say: ‘Try not to focus on the anxiety, distract yourself.’ What I hear them say: ‘Try not to focus on the fact that you feel as though you’re choking on air and will die at any given second because that’s what your brain has talked yourself into, just distract yourself from it.’ It’s hard when people haven’t experienced it themselves, and I believe people’s advice always comes from a good place, but when you’re in that situation and you feel as though you have lost control, it can be hard to listen to. I found that it was only when I was out the other end that I realized the people around me only had good intentions and wanted to help.” — Morgan P.

Most likely, the person talking to you about their anxiety doesn’t need advice — they need understanding. 

When Anxiety Makes Your Life a Blur

Anxiety. On the outside, it appears I have my shit together. It seems that by putting on makeup, doing my hair, showering, getting out of bed (which some days feels impossible), I have my life together.

Inside my heart is pounding. My mind is racing. My legs are trying to keep up with the speed of my thoughts. I feel tired. I’m always feeling as if I am no good and I don’t deserve to be breathing. My life feels as if it is slowly flying by.

My mind is a blur, but no one knows. No one can tell I am fucking terrified of my own thoughts. I go to bed with these horrible thoughts, just to do the same thing tomorrow.

I have struggled with anxiety for a long time. The best way to describe it is a blur. The days are long but they go by so fast. I am constantly worrying about the unknown, tearing myself apart, thinking “what if?” What if I were skinnier? What if I were prettier? What if I wasn’t sick? What if mental illness didn’t exist? What if I lose the ones I love most? Constantly thinking about everything that can go wrong in my life, I never focus on what’s going right.

Constantly thinking about everything that can go wrong in my life, I never focus on what’s going right.

What’s going right in your life? There has to be something. Our hearts are beating and I’m sure at least one soul loves you in this world.

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Front portrait of the beautiful woman's face with closed eyes

Why I'm Relearning to Breathe Because of My Anxiety Disorder


In. Fill up my belly like a balloon — two, three, four.


Out. Pull my belly button to my spine — two, three, four, five.



Breathing. We are born with the ability to do it. In fact, it is one of those automatic functions of the body. It is one of the most basic and simple things we can do and it comes easily to everyone, right?


Breathing is one of the things those of us with anxiety disorders often get “wrong.”

I’ve forgotten how to breathe, again. I’ve spent the past 15 months training myself to breathe normally using Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT). Patiently learning to slow my breath to a calm and rhythmic pace, not hyperventilating, unconsciously holding my breathe, then gulping in deep gasps of air when the inherent need to survive overcomes my anxious brain and fights for oxygen.

I’d gotten pretty good at breathing, or so I thought. But recently, I’ve started to find the same anxious and maladaptive breath holding and hyperventilation creeping back in. Why exactly, I am not 100 percent sure, but the effects are making themselves apparent with daily panic attacks and dizzy spells. I am stressed out, my anxiety disorder is taking back control.

Maybe it’s the pressure I’m placing on myself to achieve wellness. I’ve been receiving treatment for mental health issues for more than a year and sometimes I think I should be “cured” by now and I question why I’m still struggling more often than I’d like. Possibly it is that I’m attempting to socialize more instead of isolating myself like I have for the past year — ater all, being able to integrate into society again is an integral part of health.

Mostly I think it’s the cracks showing from having my mother back in my life for the past couple of months. Her manipulative and baiting ways are terribly draining on me and I continually worry about when the next confrontation or smear campaign will happen. If you’ve had a manipulative person in your life, you will understand only too well the damage even moderate contact does to you.

I’m finding my nightmares are bad again. They have been now for several weeks and I feel haunted by them during the day. I’m not depressed by them, but I am frightened and left with a sense of impending doom. I feel overwhelmed and out of control. I need to stop watching and reading the news — the horrific headlines and threats of an all out war only feed my fears.

No matter what the reason or reasons though, the fact remains I’m falling down the rabbit hole and it scares me a lot. I am terrified of my anxiety attacks. I’m living in fear of them again and the way they can totally obliterate my sense of peace. The frantic speed of my heart, the spinning of my racing thoughts, the cloying nausea and sense of claustrophobia as I feel the walls are pressing in on me, is all too much to handle at times.

I remind myself recovery is not linear and there will be ups and downs. I’m reinforcing the knowledge I learned before on how to breathe and remind myself I can do it again now. I must refocus on the basics for now. I can gain control over my anxiety, but I have to work hard to do so. Letting go of the things that are making me anxious and taunting me is going to be difficult, but there is no other option.

I repeat to myself again and again, “recovery is not linear, recovery is not linear, you are not a failure!”

Follow this journey on The Art of Broken.

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digital painting of girl in darkness with glowing heart

What My Son Taught Me About My Anxiety

There are a million ways parenting is made harder by mental illness. Probably more than a million. I don’t have time for self-care; I can’t work through your emotions right away when you’re triggered; every minute of every day I am needed by this other human being who relies on me for everything. It’s exhausting, having to put my needs aside every day to make sure my child’s needs are met. It’s terrifying, doubting my every move and parenting decision. It is just plain overwhelming to have to push my anxiety down to be fully dealt with and worked through later when my child is asleep. The thought of my anxiety bleeding over onto his experience has literally kept me awake at night.

You know what, though? I wouldn’t choose any other experience for my life right now.

My son is the reason I sought help. My anxiety reached peak levels after having him and forced me to see it for the illness it was, instead of ignoring it as a personal flaw. My son pushes me to be my best self every single day. The best illustration of this happened in therapy a few days ago.

I did a guided imagery for PTSD for the first time. I wasn’t sure what to expect, just lots of emotion. I have a very active imagination so it turned out to be a great exercise for me. The recording starts out having you picture yourself walking on your heart, seeing all the damage on the surface. Walking through and past the trauma, the pain, the shame, the anger. Then you are supposed to picture a tunnel with a light shining through it; this tunnel would lead down to the safe, pure, undamaged, loving part of your heart. My tunnel was guarded. A large grizzly bear blocked the entrance. It was not threatening, it simply said: “People are not allowed here.” With my husband by my side, we eventually stepped into the tunnel and the bear walked through with us. When we reached this room of love and light, which I keep so well guarded, I saw my son.  He was sitting on the floor, playing like I have watched him do millions of times. He looked up at me with his beautiful, joyful, smile and seemed to say, “Hey mom, welcome to my room.”

The beautiful, loving, undamaged part of myself that I keep so walled off I cannot even reach it myself is where my son lives his life. I may not be able to accept love from others, or able to love myself yet, but my son has just nestled in without my realizing it. He has helped me to open my heart to others’ love. Most of all, he has helped me to open my heart to myself. I have no doubt he is the reason I can picture a safe and undamaged part of myself at all.

I can never thank him enough for the influence he has had on my life. I can never fully express the impact motherhood has made on my mental health. I can say with full certainty that I would not be on this road to healing if he had not shown me that it is possible.

Is parenting hard with a mental illness? Abso-fucking-lutely. But, parenting is what makes my daily struggle a little brighter. It is what forces me to live in the moment. It is what shows me multiple times a day that life is beautiful, no matter what my negative voice says. On my hardest and darkest days, I still have moments of clarity and love because of the little boy who lives in a room of light and love, mirroring it back to me, showing me what I’m capable of every time I forget.

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