kristydani
04-01-2014, 03:28 AM
Hi everyone,
I'm 19 and have had anxiety for about a year now. I suspect that what really triggered it for me was graduating high school and starting university. When I began university I was forced to spend a lot more time alone and had to learn how to manage my life and workload without assistance from my friends and teachers. I didn't know anyone at university and I missed high school a lot. It was a very dramatic change for me. Prior to university I had no idea what anxiety was or what it felt like. After a few months at university, I started feeling nervous before going to certain classes. Driving to uni each day, I would feel an almost overwhelming 'nervous-knot' type of feeling in my stomach. I would wake up each morning feeling nervous for no reason. I'd never experienced anything like it before. Not long after that, I started getting very anxious during class. I would sit there feeling tense and on-edge, my mind racing. I also began to suffer through what I thought were strange physical and emotional symptoms. I didn't know what was wrong with me. I would experience a pounding heart, sweaty/shaky hands, a flushed/hot feeling in my face and down my neck, tightness in my chest and a red/blotchy rash, a dry mouth, headaches, increased fatigue, feelings of constant apprehension and fear, increased worry about what others thought of me, increased self-awareness and self-consciousness, irrational thoughts etc.
Feeling like this was a nightmare. I began to fear these symptoms showing up in class, which only made things worse because I would worry more. I would tell myself to calm down and that there was nothing to be afraid of, but that never really helped. I started to worry that other people in my classes might notice all these physical symptoms I was having and would think I was weird. I began to worry excessively about what others thought of me and I became extremely self-conscious. I worried particularly about what my tutors and professors thought of me, for some reason. I became terrified of them calling on me during class, and of having to work in groups with other students. My confidence was gone. Class would finish and I would often leave feeling depressed and numb. I felt emotionally exhausted and drained due to the excessive amount of worry and mental torment I put myself through unnecessarily. I would drive home in a daze - empty, hollow and ashamed. I had never felt so down before. I would then get home and the depression would really sink in, stripping me of my motivation and personality.
Months passed and I continued feeling this way most of the time. There were many nights that I cried myself to sleep. I knew something was wrong but I thought I could handle it myself. I thought I was strong enough to cope on my own. I thought that if I let time pass by, these feelings of anxiety and depression would gradually dissipate. However, they didn't. At this stage I was in quite a dark place. I remember one evening in particular - I had come home after class and was sitting on my bed, tears in my eyes. I felt so depressed that I cut myself. I dug my fingernail into my hand as hard as I could. I wanted to bleed and to hurt myself. I was filled with self-loathing and I hated the constant emotional pain I felt. I wanted to let that out by self-harming. A few times I even used a knife to inflict small cuts on my arm, around near my ankle, and at the top of my thigh. Sometimes I had suicidal thoughts. I simply hated the anxiety so much and didn't know how to fix it. It was ruining my life and it was making every day a miserable one. Looking back now, I cannot believe that I self-harmed. I never thought I would steep so low. I remember being younger and hearing about people who self-harmed, and we were always told never to do it; and that it never solved anything. Never in a million years did I think I would be the kind of person who would resort to cutting. Never. To this day, I haven't told anyone about it; not even my doctor. I never will. I am too ashamed.
Time went on, and the anxiety increased, as well as the continuous feeling of depression. I hid it from everyone. Around others, I was able to pretend everything was fine. Nobody suspected anything, I assume. Around others I was able to act normally most of the time, and around my friends and family I continued to talk and laugh like everything was great. But deep down, I knew I wasn't fine. I felt anxious every single day. I also experienced my first panic attack before going to a shift at work. By the end of the year, I knew I had to do something. I had suffered long enough. I decided to go visit a counsellor at my university. We talked through some of the problems I had been facing, but I only went to one session because I didn't feel the counseling helped me much. I tried to push the problems aside. University was over for the year and I had no more classes. However, that didn't change anything. At this point, my anxiety was so bad that I had even started to feel anxious around my friends and family members (e.g. before going to parties with friends or before family gatherings). At one stage, I had to go back to my old high school to see one of my ex-teachers. No words could possibly describe how sick and anxious I felt. I knew this wasn't normal. No ordinary person would be feeling anxious about such minor things. I had done a lot of reading online and I knew I had anxiety and depression, but I didn't want to tell my parents because I didn't want them to worry. On top of that, I was ashamed of myself. I felt like a weak person and I didn't want to admit to myself that I needed help.
Early during the following year, I thought that things were looking a little better. I didn't feel as anxious. I tried to put the past behind me. I also started volunteering at a community legal centre. As a law student, I thought this would give me some beneficial practical experience in the field. The training at the beginning of the program was wonderful and I was proud of myself for taking on something that I was very much interested in. But then I was given the job of receptionist at the front desk, and my anxiety soon reared its ugly head once again. This was no easy administration job. It was majory stressful, complicated and chaotic - perfect for someone very experienced at that type of work. But for me, having had no experience in such a position, it was hell. Dealing with complex legal problems over the phone, discussing issues and paperwork with clients face-to-face, giving legal advice... I had no experience and had no clue what I was doing. I was out of my depth. Again, I had become an anxious mess. I had also begun having panic attacks before starting my assigned shifts at the centre. I knew I could not continue with it. But I kept fighting it. I kept going, thinking I'd be fine eventually. However, I had taken on far more than I could chew and was too inexperienced for the role. Sure, maybe in a few years after completing my degree, but not just yet. The anxiety was terrible.
I knew I needed urgent help and that I had to tell my parents. Enough was enough. So, one morning before my shift at the centre, after having had yet another panic attack alone in my bedroom, I fessed up to my mum. I tried to remain strong, but I ended up bursting into tears and I told her I desperately needed help. Everything I had been through over the past year, all the times that I had suffered in silence - it was finally out in the open. It was a huge relief. I phoned the manager of the legal centre and quit the position. I had to put my health first, for once. Both my parents were very understanding and supportive, and they immediately sought help for me. I am so thankful for their ongoing love and encouragement. That particular day, I ended up seeing a great doctor and she prescribed me some medication. My doctor is very supportive and to this day I am ever so grateful to be able to confide in her, and to have someone like her (outside of my family) who seems to genuinely care. Currently I'm taking a nightly dosage of 30mg Mirtazapine and a Valium when I feel I need it.
That's where I am today. It's been a rough ride, but I'm glad I found the strength within myself to finally seek help. Despite some initial side effects, the medication has been an absolute life-saver for me. I'm still experimenting with finding an effective amount of Mirtazapine so I don't have to take the Valium, but I know that things are definitely improving. I no longer feel as anxious or as tense. I no longer have panic attacks before stressful events. Whilst I am still suffering with anxiety, and whilst I do still have the occasional day where I feel depressed or more anxious than usual, in general I do feel more at ease and more comfortable in my every day life. Going through this period has definitely changed me a lot as a person. It has been very difficult for me at times, but I am so glad to be on this medication. It has helped a lot, and I look forward to living my life to the fullest without letting my anxiety get in the way like it has in the past.
I'm 19 and have had anxiety for about a year now. I suspect that what really triggered it for me was graduating high school and starting university. When I began university I was forced to spend a lot more time alone and had to learn how to manage my life and workload without assistance from my friends and teachers. I didn't know anyone at university and I missed high school a lot. It was a very dramatic change for me. Prior to university I had no idea what anxiety was or what it felt like. After a few months at university, I started feeling nervous before going to certain classes. Driving to uni each day, I would feel an almost overwhelming 'nervous-knot' type of feeling in my stomach. I would wake up each morning feeling nervous for no reason. I'd never experienced anything like it before. Not long after that, I started getting very anxious during class. I would sit there feeling tense and on-edge, my mind racing. I also began to suffer through what I thought were strange physical and emotional symptoms. I didn't know what was wrong with me. I would experience a pounding heart, sweaty/shaky hands, a flushed/hot feeling in my face and down my neck, tightness in my chest and a red/blotchy rash, a dry mouth, headaches, increased fatigue, feelings of constant apprehension and fear, increased worry about what others thought of me, increased self-awareness and self-consciousness, irrational thoughts etc.
Feeling like this was a nightmare. I began to fear these symptoms showing up in class, which only made things worse because I would worry more. I would tell myself to calm down and that there was nothing to be afraid of, but that never really helped. I started to worry that other people in my classes might notice all these physical symptoms I was having and would think I was weird. I began to worry excessively about what others thought of me and I became extremely self-conscious. I worried particularly about what my tutors and professors thought of me, for some reason. I became terrified of them calling on me during class, and of having to work in groups with other students. My confidence was gone. Class would finish and I would often leave feeling depressed and numb. I felt emotionally exhausted and drained due to the excessive amount of worry and mental torment I put myself through unnecessarily. I would drive home in a daze - empty, hollow and ashamed. I had never felt so down before. I would then get home and the depression would really sink in, stripping me of my motivation and personality.
Months passed and I continued feeling this way most of the time. There were many nights that I cried myself to sleep. I knew something was wrong but I thought I could handle it myself. I thought I was strong enough to cope on my own. I thought that if I let time pass by, these feelings of anxiety and depression would gradually dissipate. However, they didn't. At this stage I was in quite a dark place. I remember one evening in particular - I had come home after class and was sitting on my bed, tears in my eyes. I felt so depressed that I cut myself. I dug my fingernail into my hand as hard as I could. I wanted to bleed and to hurt myself. I was filled with self-loathing and I hated the constant emotional pain I felt. I wanted to let that out by self-harming. A few times I even used a knife to inflict small cuts on my arm, around near my ankle, and at the top of my thigh. Sometimes I had suicidal thoughts. I simply hated the anxiety so much and didn't know how to fix it. It was ruining my life and it was making every day a miserable one. Looking back now, I cannot believe that I self-harmed. I never thought I would steep so low. I remember being younger and hearing about people who self-harmed, and we were always told never to do it; and that it never solved anything. Never in a million years did I think I would be the kind of person who would resort to cutting. Never. To this day, I haven't told anyone about it; not even my doctor. I never will. I am too ashamed.
Time went on, and the anxiety increased, as well as the continuous feeling of depression. I hid it from everyone. Around others, I was able to pretend everything was fine. Nobody suspected anything, I assume. Around others I was able to act normally most of the time, and around my friends and family I continued to talk and laugh like everything was great. But deep down, I knew I wasn't fine. I felt anxious every single day. I also experienced my first panic attack before going to a shift at work. By the end of the year, I knew I had to do something. I had suffered long enough. I decided to go visit a counsellor at my university. We talked through some of the problems I had been facing, but I only went to one session because I didn't feel the counseling helped me much. I tried to push the problems aside. University was over for the year and I had no more classes. However, that didn't change anything. At this point, my anxiety was so bad that I had even started to feel anxious around my friends and family members (e.g. before going to parties with friends or before family gatherings). At one stage, I had to go back to my old high school to see one of my ex-teachers. No words could possibly describe how sick and anxious I felt. I knew this wasn't normal. No ordinary person would be feeling anxious about such minor things. I had done a lot of reading online and I knew I had anxiety and depression, but I didn't want to tell my parents because I didn't want them to worry. On top of that, I was ashamed of myself. I felt like a weak person and I didn't want to admit to myself that I needed help.
Early during the following year, I thought that things were looking a little better. I didn't feel as anxious. I tried to put the past behind me. I also started volunteering at a community legal centre. As a law student, I thought this would give me some beneficial practical experience in the field. The training at the beginning of the program was wonderful and I was proud of myself for taking on something that I was very much interested in. But then I was given the job of receptionist at the front desk, and my anxiety soon reared its ugly head once again. This was no easy administration job. It was majory stressful, complicated and chaotic - perfect for someone very experienced at that type of work. But for me, having had no experience in such a position, it was hell. Dealing with complex legal problems over the phone, discussing issues and paperwork with clients face-to-face, giving legal advice... I had no experience and had no clue what I was doing. I was out of my depth. Again, I had become an anxious mess. I had also begun having panic attacks before starting my assigned shifts at the centre. I knew I could not continue with it. But I kept fighting it. I kept going, thinking I'd be fine eventually. However, I had taken on far more than I could chew and was too inexperienced for the role. Sure, maybe in a few years after completing my degree, but not just yet. The anxiety was terrible.
I knew I needed urgent help and that I had to tell my parents. Enough was enough. So, one morning before my shift at the centre, after having had yet another panic attack alone in my bedroom, I fessed up to my mum. I tried to remain strong, but I ended up bursting into tears and I told her I desperately needed help. Everything I had been through over the past year, all the times that I had suffered in silence - it was finally out in the open. It was a huge relief. I phoned the manager of the legal centre and quit the position. I had to put my health first, for once. Both my parents were very understanding and supportive, and they immediately sought help for me. I am so thankful for their ongoing love and encouragement. That particular day, I ended up seeing a great doctor and she prescribed me some medication. My doctor is very supportive and to this day I am ever so grateful to be able to confide in her, and to have someone like her (outside of my family) who seems to genuinely care. Currently I'm taking a nightly dosage of 30mg Mirtazapine and a Valium when I feel I need it.
That's where I am today. It's been a rough ride, but I'm glad I found the strength within myself to finally seek help. Despite some initial side effects, the medication has been an absolute life-saver for me. I'm still experimenting with finding an effective amount of Mirtazapine so I don't have to take the Valium, but I know that things are definitely improving. I no longer feel as anxious or as tense. I no longer have panic attacks before stressful events. Whilst I am still suffering with anxiety, and whilst I do still have the occasional day where I feel depressed or more anxious than usual, in general I do feel more at ease and more comfortable in my every day life. Going through this period has definitely changed me a lot as a person. It has been very difficult for me at times, but I am so glad to be on this medication. It has helped a lot, and I look forward to living my life to the fullest without letting my anxiety get in the way like it has in the past.