Two One
06-24-2014, 09:32 PM
My name is Dylan, I'm 19 years old and currently suffering from the worst anxiety I've ever had in my life. I'm new to this forum but I needed a place to vent my thoughts and emotions. I apologize for how long this is going to be so this is a fair warning in advance.
On the evening of July 20th, 2012 my life would essentially change forever. That night my dad and I were going to put gas in his car so he would have enough to make it to work the next day. My dad drank two cans of beer that night, and for some stupid reason I didn't want to drive. We arrived at a stop sign and without using his turn signal, my dad stopped and made a right turn. As soon as we turned the corner I saw a flash of blue and red. I didn't want to believe what was happening but deep down I knew, and deep down I knew they were going to ask him if he had been drinking. I asked my dad if they were stopping us and he wouldn't answer me. He couldn't even look at me, I didn't know what to think. When the officer approached our car he said the reason he pulled my dad over was because he didn't use his turn signal, but as I feared he asked my dad if he had been drinking. My dad answered yes and the officer subsequently took him out of the car, measured his blood alcohol level, and arrested him. As soon as my mom showed up I couldn't hold back the tears anymore. I broke down and couldn't believe what was happening. Later that night when my dad was released I spent the entire night in emotional distress. He told me he felt like a bad father and I just told him I didn't blame him for what had happened. I blamed myself for what happened because I decided not to drive.
Throughout March 2013 my dad began to suffer the repercussions of his ticket. It caused a lot of tension and problems in our household. I began to fear my parents getting a divorce. Finally, the night before Easter 2013, I cracked. My mom and sister had went to church and my dad was still at work. I stayed home to wait for my girlfriend so I could go to mass with her. This pushed me over the edge. I began to notice an odd sensation in my stomach, it wasn't a familiar feeling at all so I began to worry. Before I knew it, I was panicking. I was breathing heaving. Finally I called my mom and she came to get me. She told me she thought it was my anxiety when we got home, I wasn't so sure. On Easter day the feeling in my stomach returned once again, but I dismissed it. I thought maybe I had a virus and decided to wait it out. The Monday after Easter my mom and I drove my dad to Sacramento, because his license was suspended and he was going to spend the night there for business. My sister would also be gone that night as she was spending the night at her friend's house. It was just me and my mom that night, which I wasn't used to at all. We had spaghetti for dinner that night, little did I know I would regret that. The next morning around 2AM I woke up with a burning stomach. It felt like it was on fire. I noticed that I kept burping while my stomach was feeling this way, which I found very odd. I finally decided to wake my mom up. She told me it was probably nothing and to do my best to ignore it. I did my best, and finally after about an hour and a half I passed out due to just being so tired.
The next day was quite possibly the worst day of my life. It was April 2nd and it was my girlfriend's birthday. The feeling in my stomach returned once again and it was the worst it had ever been. My stomach was on fire. I broke the news to my girlfriend that I could not take her out that night and she was surprisingly understanding. I felt absolutely horrible for most of the day but I slept through the night out of exhaustion. The following week I was plagued by the same unusual sensation in my stomach. I stopped eating all together. Finally, my mom talked to my grandma about her symptoms when she had her ulcer. When my mom described the symptoms to me they were exactly what I was feeling. I had the uncomfortable gnawing sensation in my stomach, the constant belching, bloating, I was constantly woken from my sleep because of my symptoms. My mom took me to the docor and after I told him my symptoms I told him I thought I had an ulcer. He tried to play it off as nothing. I felt he wasn't taking me seriously, and finally my mom told him I wasn't eating. After the results of my urine test showed I was starving he decided this was a serious situation. He ran a series of tests, serology, the urea breath test, and a stool antigen test. At the time, both my mom and I thought that ulcers were caused by stress. It wasn't until my doctor ran all these tests that I learned about H. pylori. All of my tests came back negative, but I still wasn't eating so I was referred to a gastroenterologist.
My gastroenterologist was also skeptical that it was an ulcer. I started taking Pepcid, and I found that it did relieve the discomfort. I was able to eat again, but not much. When I did eat, even if I ate only a little bit I would feel so full and the food would just sit there in my stomach like a ball of lead. My second visit to the gastroenterologist he told me to cut out all acid promoting food and told me to start taking Prilosec as it is a stronger antacid. I did this for a couple weeks but I still wasn't eating normally. Finally my mom and I pushed for an endoscopy to which my gastroenterologist finally agreed. The day of my endoscopy, I felt relief, I thought I was finally going to get my answer. After I was sedated and put to sleep, I woke up to find out, much to my dismay, that I did not have an ulcer. My gastroenterologist told me all he found was a white texture in my duodenum. He took a biopsy and he would call me to set up an appointment when he had the results. My symptoms continued, and finally I was called in for a follow up appointment. The doctor told me the biopsies were consistent with a certain type of lymphoma. He ordered a CT scan and if an obstruction was found I would be sent to an oncologist the very next day. At this point, I lost it. The worry overcame me and I broke down. I couldn't believe it, nobody wants to have cancer but I couldn't believe I could possibly have it at age 18. I had the CT scan done and thankfully nothing was found. Nothing but inflammation in my small intestine. Finally, I had to undergo a colonoscopy to rule out IBD. However, after the colonoscopy my doctor told my mom and I that there was not only inflammation in my small intestine but abnormalities in the tissue. So he took a biopsy to check for cancer because cancer always starts in the tissue. Finally, during mid July I got an answer. No cancer. No ulcer, no IBD, no cancer. My gastroenterologist said he came to the conclusion that this was all caused by stress.
I struggled with it for some time but late September through most of October I began to accept it as part of my life. I told myself anything I felt with my stomach was most likely anxiety. Then, on Halloween I caught the dreaded Norovirus. The worst possible thing that could have happened to me happened. My actual illness was very acute but due to my extreme fear and worry I exacerbated the severity of it. I only had abdominal pain and diarrhea. I suffered no vomiting. I was better in two days, but the memory of that illness and the fear of catching it again and being worse than the first time haunts me every single day. Every day I now worry about whether I am going to get sick. I obsess over my bowel movements, even the slightest abnormality is enough to set off a chain of worrying that will cause my stomach to feel awful and prevent me from eating. I'm almost positive I have IBS. In April I finally decided to see a psychiatrist. He gave me a prescription for hydroxyzine and Lexapro. I was a bit upset with this because I wanted a benzodiazepine, and he told me I was a great candidate for benzodiazepines but I don't think he likes prescribing them. My first day on the Lexapro I had a horrible panic attack. I powered through the Lexapro as I know that SSRIs often cause side effects the first few days of beginning them. I stayed on the Lexapro and it didn't make me any worse, but it didn't make me any better. It was impossible for me to get a follow up appointment with my psychiatrist. I began to exercise six days a week in an attempt to control my anxiety and I found it helped more than anything else. But, not for long. In May I broke up with my girlfriend of two years and that caused my anxiety to be at its worst since my now ex-girlfriend's birthday in 2013. Finally, I was able to control the anxiety enough to get back to daily exercise. But now, in June 2014 I find that even that is failing me.
It doesn't seem to matter what I do or no matter how hard I try, this always comes back to get me. I have fought this horrible anxiety for over a year and I have lost every single time. I am just about done with life. I don't see things getting any better for me. My anxiety has forced me to watch my life fall apart right in front of me and there is nothing I can do to stop it. My life has no substance and I struggle to find a redeeming quality in my life and a reason to continue living. I feel horrible every day, whether it be my stomach, my head, my back, the muscle tension, or my constant fatigue. I feel that life is passing me by and I am just wasting away. Every single day I am haunted by the memories of that illness and I can't stop it. I am so tired of it. I honestly feel there is nothing left for me in this life. I have truly lost all hope and faith. Thank you to whoever took the time to read all of this. Once again, I apologize that this post was so long but I had to vent my thoughts and emotions somewhere. I do not feel my family understands me so I came to this board of fellow anxiety sufferers. That is all.
On the evening of July 20th, 2012 my life would essentially change forever. That night my dad and I were going to put gas in his car so he would have enough to make it to work the next day. My dad drank two cans of beer that night, and for some stupid reason I didn't want to drive. We arrived at a stop sign and without using his turn signal, my dad stopped and made a right turn. As soon as we turned the corner I saw a flash of blue and red. I didn't want to believe what was happening but deep down I knew, and deep down I knew they were going to ask him if he had been drinking. I asked my dad if they were stopping us and he wouldn't answer me. He couldn't even look at me, I didn't know what to think. When the officer approached our car he said the reason he pulled my dad over was because he didn't use his turn signal, but as I feared he asked my dad if he had been drinking. My dad answered yes and the officer subsequently took him out of the car, measured his blood alcohol level, and arrested him. As soon as my mom showed up I couldn't hold back the tears anymore. I broke down and couldn't believe what was happening. Later that night when my dad was released I spent the entire night in emotional distress. He told me he felt like a bad father and I just told him I didn't blame him for what had happened. I blamed myself for what happened because I decided not to drive.
Throughout March 2013 my dad began to suffer the repercussions of his ticket. It caused a lot of tension and problems in our household. I began to fear my parents getting a divorce. Finally, the night before Easter 2013, I cracked. My mom and sister had went to church and my dad was still at work. I stayed home to wait for my girlfriend so I could go to mass with her. This pushed me over the edge. I began to notice an odd sensation in my stomach, it wasn't a familiar feeling at all so I began to worry. Before I knew it, I was panicking. I was breathing heaving. Finally I called my mom and she came to get me. She told me she thought it was my anxiety when we got home, I wasn't so sure. On Easter day the feeling in my stomach returned once again, but I dismissed it. I thought maybe I had a virus and decided to wait it out. The Monday after Easter my mom and I drove my dad to Sacramento, because his license was suspended and he was going to spend the night there for business. My sister would also be gone that night as she was spending the night at her friend's house. It was just me and my mom that night, which I wasn't used to at all. We had spaghetti for dinner that night, little did I know I would regret that. The next morning around 2AM I woke up with a burning stomach. It felt like it was on fire. I noticed that I kept burping while my stomach was feeling this way, which I found very odd. I finally decided to wake my mom up. She told me it was probably nothing and to do my best to ignore it. I did my best, and finally after about an hour and a half I passed out due to just being so tired.
The next day was quite possibly the worst day of my life. It was April 2nd and it was my girlfriend's birthday. The feeling in my stomach returned once again and it was the worst it had ever been. My stomach was on fire. I broke the news to my girlfriend that I could not take her out that night and she was surprisingly understanding. I felt absolutely horrible for most of the day but I slept through the night out of exhaustion. The following week I was plagued by the same unusual sensation in my stomach. I stopped eating all together. Finally, my mom talked to my grandma about her symptoms when she had her ulcer. When my mom described the symptoms to me they were exactly what I was feeling. I had the uncomfortable gnawing sensation in my stomach, the constant belching, bloating, I was constantly woken from my sleep because of my symptoms. My mom took me to the docor and after I told him my symptoms I told him I thought I had an ulcer. He tried to play it off as nothing. I felt he wasn't taking me seriously, and finally my mom told him I wasn't eating. After the results of my urine test showed I was starving he decided this was a serious situation. He ran a series of tests, serology, the urea breath test, and a stool antigen test. At the time, both my mom and I thought that ulcers were caused by stress. It wasn't until my doctor ran all these tests that I learned about H. pylori. All of my tests came back negative, but I still wasn't eating so I was referred to a gastroenterologist.
My gastroenterologist was also skeptical that it was an ulcer. I started taking Pepcid, and I found that it did relieve the discomfort. I was able to eat again, but not much. When I did eat, even if I ate only a little bit I would feel so full and the food would just sit there in my stomach like a ball of lead. My second visit to the gastroenterologist he told me to cut out all acid promoting food and told me to start taking Prilosec as it is a stronger antacid. I did this for a couple weeks but I still wasn't eating normally. Finally my mom and I pushed for an endoscopy to which my gastroenterologist finally agreed. The day of my endoscopy, I felt relief, I thought I was finally going to get my answer. After I was sedated and put to sleep, I woke up to find out, much to my dismay, that I did not have an ulcer. My gastroenterologist told me all he found was a white texture in my duodenum. He took a biopsy and he would call me to set up an appointment when he had the results. My symptoms continued, and finally I was called in for a follow up appointment. The doctor told me the biopsies were consistent with a certain type of lymphoma. He ordered a CT scan and if an obstruction was found I would be sent to an oncologist the very next day. At this point, I lost it. The worry overcame me and I broke down. I couldn't believe it, nobody wants to have cancer but I couldn't believe I could possibly have it at age 18. I had the CT scan done and thankfully nothing was found. Nothing but inflammation in my small intestine. Finally, I had to undergo a colonoscopy to rule out IBD. However, after the colonoscopy my doctor told my mom and I that there was not only inflammation in my small intestine but abnormalities in the tissue. So he took a biopsy to check for cancer because cancer always starts in the tissue. Finally, during mid July I got an answer. No cancer. No ulcer, no IBD, no cancer. My gastroenterologist said he came to the conclusion that this was all caused by stress.
I struggled with it for some time but late September through most of October I began to accept it as part of my life. I told myself anything I felt with my stomach was most likely anxiety. Then, on Halloween I caught the dreaded Norovirus. The worst possible thing that could have happened to me happened. My actual illness was very acute but due to my extreme fear and worry I exacerbated the severity of it. I only had abdominal pain and diarrhea. I suffered no vomiting. I was better in two days, but the memory of that illness and the fear of catching it again and being worse than the first time haunts me every single day. Every day I now worry about whether I am going to get sick. I obsess over my bowel movements, even the slightest abnormality is enough to set off a chain of worrying that will cause my stomach to feel awful and prevent me from eating. I'm almost positive I have IBS. In April I finally decided to see a psychiatrist. He gave me a prescription for hydroxyzine and Lexapro. I was a bit upset with this because I wanted a benzodiazepine, and he told me I was a great candidate for benzodiazepines but I don't think he likes prescribing them. My first day on the Lexapro I had a horrible panic attack. I powered through the Lexapro as I know that SSRIs often cause side effects the first few days of beginning them. I stayed on the Lexapro and it didn't make me any worse, but it didn't make me any better. It was impossible for me to get a follow up appointment with my psychiatrist. I began to exercise six days a week in an attempt to control my anxiety and I found it helped more than anything else. But, not for long. In May I broke up with my girlfriend of two years and that caused my anxiety to be at its worst since my now ex-girlfriend's birthday in 2013. Finally, I was able to control the anxiety enough to get back to daily exercise. But now, in June 2014 I find that even that is failing me.
It doesn't seem to matter what I do or no matter how hard I try, this always comes back to get me. I have fought this horrible anxiety for over a year and I have lost every single time. I am just about done with life. I don't see things getting any better for me. My anxiety has forced me to watch my life fall apart right in front of me and there is nothing I can do to stop it. My life has no substance and I struggle to find a redeeming quality in my life and a reason to continue living. I feel horrible every day, whether it be my stomach, my head, my back, the muscle tension, or my constant fatigue. I feel that life is passing me by and I am just wasting away. Every single day I am haunted by the memories of that illness and I can't stop it. I am so tired of it. I honestly feel there is nothing left for me in this life. I have truly lost all hope and faith. Thank you to whoever took the time to read all of this. Once again, I apologize that this post was so long but I had to vent my thoughts and emotions somewhere. I do not feel my family understands me so I came to this board of fellow anxiety sufferers. That is all.