krazykikikat
09-28-2015, 01:31 PM
I've had anxiety almost as long as I can remember, but something my doctor said the other day made me think about it in a new light. She said it sounded like I had suffered some trauma in childhood that led me to feel that the world isn't a safe place. Now this was my GP doctor, not a counselor or psychiatrist, but the more I thought about what she said, the more I was sure she was right.
The thing is, I can't think of any "trauma", in the traditional sense, that I endured. I started writing a list of times in my life I had panic attacks or abnormal anxiety - at least the times I remember well enough that they could be considered traumatic. But I couldn't identify any of these instances as being the cause for my later battles with anxiety. The earliest I can remember is when I was about 8, I used to lie in bed worrying that a madman would break into our home and shoot me, or my parents. I can't remember what caused this worry. Most likely I saw a news story or a movie that involved random homicide - which has made me rethink my condemnation of my mom sheltering my little sister from news about school shootings.
But in any case, while I was making this list I noticed a pattern. Most of my panic attacks were based on an exaggerated response to a minor threat. On the other hand, some of them happened when there was no identifiable threat at all. While thinking this, I began to realize that even today, I have abnormal responses to things and don't always classify my reaction as "anxiety". So I've begun to wonder if maybe some of my anxiety is learnt, and some comes from a chemical imbalance of some kind.
Here are some examples:
When I was 8, I contracted pinworms, was too afraid to tell my parents, and thought I was dying.
When I was 9, I saw the movie "The Prince of Egypt", and since I didn't have a religious upbringing, this was the first time I had heard of God killing the firstborn sons of those who opposed him. The thought that God might kill me because of something my parents did scared me so much I could hardly sleep at night.
When I was 12, I saw "The Sixth Sense". The ghosts and gore didn't scare me nearly as much as learning about Munchausen's by proxy, and I lost my appetite for a month from a subconscious fear of being poisoned.
To this day, driving makes me nervous, because there's so much that can go wrong.
These were all exaggerated responses to situations that might scare anyone. Some other examples of this include my social anxieties: that people won't like me if I say something the wrong way, that I must at all costs avoid offending people, and avoid uncomfortable social situations that might make me slip up.
But I have also suffered some panic attacks that seem almost supernatural in origin.
One night when I was 9, my step-brother and I had planned to get up in the middle of the night to sneak downstairs and play video games. When we were halfway down the stairs, he suddenly dropped to his knees and vomited. Turns out he had the stomach flu, but something about the way his knees just seemed to give out, something about the way he fell, scared me so much it sent me fleeing back to my room, where I stayed awake all night in a nervous fever, scared that I might hear him throw up.
When I was 12 and had just gotten over the month-long state of anxiety the Sixth Sense incident left me with, I had my most pronounced panic attack ever, and have never been able to identify the cause. It was summer vacation and I was staying with some family of my step-mom's. As it got closer to bedtime, I started getting the shakes, something that used to happen to me every time I had a panic attack. I didn't feel particularly anxious though, and told myself to relax, read a distracting book, and forget it. Even when I managed to concentrate on the book, the shaking didn't stop, and by the time everyone else went to bed, I was actually feeling anxious. By the time my dad found me, whimpering and paralyzed in my sleeping bag, I had had hallucinations, random disconnected images flashing across my vision like a montage, overlaying the room I could actually see. I slept only from exhaustion, and when I woke up in the morning, had a second of relief before panic came flooding back. I spent most of the rest of the summer in that state, trying to find things to distract me from a visceral fear I couldn't understand. It felt like a nightmare, when you're being chased by a monster, except daylight didn't make it disappear.
In addition to actual anxiety, I have some strange fear responses that I'm only now becoming aware of. These feel different from anxiety to me, less like worry and overthinking, more like the visceral response you get when someone jumps around a corner and scares you.
When I'm walking on the sidewalk, I shrink away from the street when a semi-truck passes me, and my heart thuds.
A few days ago, I heard my live-in boyfriend open the dishwasher from our room, and my stomach leapt at hearing the sound, I guess because I was worried he might come in and berate me for an argument we'd had earlier. I should note that this is unreasonable because he has never yelled at me, hurt me, or done anything that would make me not trust him. I do trust him, in fact. But in that split second, before thought, I was scared that he might come in.
If my boyfriend is driving and has to make a sudden stop, or gets uncomfortably close to the car in front, I clench my fists, sometimes even gasp.
So while most of my anxiety seems to come from my thoughts running away with me, sometimes it seems to not involve thought at all. The oddest contradiction to my thought that some of my fear may be chemical is that I enjoy riding roller coasters. I'm nervous when standing in line for them, and on the way up to that first drop, but after that I have a lot of fun. I've never ridden a roller coaster that scared me so much I wouldn't do it again, except for one with a very long free-fall.
But I guess I'm just wondering, is it "normal" (for someone who has been diagnosed with anxiety) to have so may different kinds of anxieties? And can knowing this help me choose a medication that will target all the causes?
The thing is, I can't think of any "trauma", in the traditional sense, that I endured. I started writing a list of times in my life I had panic attacks or abnormal anxiety - at least the times I remember well enough that they could be considered traumatic. But I couldn't identify any of these instances as being the cause for my later battles with anxiety. The earliest I can remember is when I was about 8, I used to lie in bed worrying that a madman would break into our home and shoot me, or my parents. I can't remember what caused this worry. Most likely I saw a news story or a movie that involved random homicide - which has made me rethink my condemnation of my mom sheltering my little sister from news about school shootings.
But in any case, while I was making this list I noticed a pattern. Most of my panic attacks were based on an exaggerated response to a minor threat. On the other hand, some of them happened when there was no identifiable threat at all. While thinking this, I began to realize that even today, I have abnormal responses to things and don't always classify my reaction as "anxiety". So I've begun to wonder if maybe some of my anxiety is learnt, and some comes from a chemical imbalance of some kind.
Here are some examples:
When I was 8, I contracted pinworms, was too afraid to tell my parents, and thought I was dying.
When I was 9, I saw the movie "The Prince of Egypt", and since I didn't have a religious upbringing, this was the first time I had heard of God killing the firstborn sons of those who opposed him. The thought that God might kill me because of something my parents did scared me so much I could hardly sleep at night.
When I was 12, I saw "The Sixth Sense". The ghosts and gore didn't scare me nearly as much as learning about Munchausen's by proxy, and I lost my appetite for a month from a subconscious fear of being poisoned.
To this day, driving makes me nervous, because there's so much that can go wrong.
These were all exaggerated responses to situations that might scare anyone. Some other examples of this include my social anxieties: that people won't like me if I say something the wrong way, that I must at all costs avoid offending people, and avoid uncomfortable social situations that might make me slip up.
But I have also suffered some panic attacks that seem almost supernatural in origin.
One night when I was 9, my step-brother and I had planned to get up in the middle of the night to sneak downstairs and play video games. When we were halfway down the stairs, he suddenly dropped to his knees and vomited. Turns out he had the stomach flu, but something about the way his knees just seemed to give out, something about the way he fell, scared me so much it sent me fleeing back to my room, where I stayed awake all night in a nervous fever, scared that I might hear him throw up.
When I was 12 and had just gotten over the month-long state of anxiety the Sixth Sense incident left me with, I had my most pronounced panic attack ever, and have never been able to identify the cause. It was summer vacation and I was staying with some family of my step-mom's. As it got closer to bedtime, I started getting the shakes, something that used to happen to me every time I had a panic attack. I didn't feel particularly anxious though, and told myself to relax, read a distracting book, and forget it. Even when I managed to concentrate on the book, the shaking didn't stop, and by the time everyone else went to bed, I was actually feeling anxious. By the time my dad found me, whimpering and paralyzed in my sleeping bag, I had had hallucinations, random disconnected images flashing across my vision like a montage, overlaying the room I could actually see. I slept only from exhaustion, and when I woke up in the morning, had a second of relief before panic came flooding back. I spent most of the rest of the summer in that state, trying to find things to distract me from a visceral fear I couldn't understand. It felt like a nightmare, when you're being chased by a monster, except daylight didn't make it disappear.
In addition to actual anxiety, I have some strange fear responses that I'm only now becoming aware of. These feel different from anxiety to me, less like worry and overthinking, more like the visceral response you get when someone jumps around a corner and scares you.
When I'm walking on the sidewalk, I shrink away from the street when a semi-truck passes me, and my heart thuds.
A few days ago, I heard my live-in boyfriend open the dishwasher from our room, and my stomach leapt at hearing the sound, I guess because I was worried he might come in and berate me for an argument we'd had earlier. I should note that this is unreasonable because he has never yelled at me, hurt me, or done anything that would make me not trust him. I do trust him, in fact. But in that split second, before thought, I was scared that he might come in.
If my boyfriend is driving and has to make a sudden stop, or gets uncomfortably close to the car in front, I clench my fists, sometimes even gasp.
So while most of my anxiety seems to come from my thoughts running away with me, sometimes it seems to not involve thought at all. The oddest contradiction to my thought that some of my fear may be chemical is that I enjoy riding roller coasters. I'm nervous when standing in line for them, and on the way up to that first drop, but after that I have a lot of fun. I've never ridden a roller coaster that scared me so much I wouldn't do it again, except for one with a very long free-fall.
But I guess I'm just wondering, is it "normal" (for someone who has been diagnosed with anxiety) to have so may different kinds of anxieties? And can knowing this help me choose a medication that will target all the causes?