So I Have General Anxiety Disorder pt.1
I found out today thati suffer from Genral Anxiety Disorder.
Fuck.
Let me backtrack for a minute. Last night I had a major panic attack. It came on out of nowhere and landed on me like an anvil in a Bugs Bunny cartoon. My heart started pounding in my chest. I could feel it in my neck and my ears and my temples. I didn’t know if I was having a heart attack or if the damn thing was just going to explode. It scared me. A LOT. It lasted about 5 hours and finally relented around 1:30 in the morning, when I simply passed out from exhaustion.
Needless to say, when I woke up this morning, I knew I had to go to the doctor.
But let me back up even further. Whe I was a kid and my family would go out to eat, I would get really anxious. Then I would start to get overheated. Then I would feel nauseous and light-headed. At that point, I would have to leave. I’ve been that way for the majority of my life. Me and eating in restaurants just doesn’t mix. As a child my parents thought I was claustrophobic. (we ate in a lot of small, dimly lit Italian joints). But claustrophobia never affected any other parts of my life. Enclosed spaces and me are cool.
Also (this is going to dip into the world of TMI, so be warned), I’ve had stomach problems for my whole life. I’ve gone to countless doctors, been put through countless tests (anyone under the age of 30 who’s had to have a colonoscopy knows my pain), and all to find out nothing. The closest thing I’ve ever gotten to a diagnosis was, “Well, since we can’t find anything else, we’ll call it IBS.” Having a stomach like mine when you’re a kid can be pretty damn embarrassing. Ah, who am I kidding… it’s embarrassing as an adult. So anything restroom related has always stressed me out.
I have always found myself worrying about things. Money. Relationships. You name it. Even things I enjoy. Before getting together with friends, I would get myself worked into a near panic attack even though I WANTED to go out! And typically, once I was out, I would be fine and have a great time. But the time leading up to going out was torture. There were times where it would get so bad that I would just cancel for no other reason than to ease my mind.
So that’s been my life. Almost 34 years of near-constant stress. That’s not to say that my life has been horrible. Quite the opposite, actually. My life has been pretty damn good. I’ve got a beautiful, brilliant wife that I adore, two amazing children, a fantastic job, and a writing career that seems to continually move in the right direction. For all intents and purposes, I’m living the dream. It’s just a dream that I worry about… ALL OF THE TIME.
Here’s a peek into how General Anxiety Disorder affects my thinking. I’ll use this morning as an example. After my hellish night of heart palpitations, I did some serious internet research. That was what brought me an understanding of GAD, and in turn, to the doctor. So at 8:30 this morning, I called the doctor’s office to make my appointment. Right after I had scheduled my appointment (for 2:30 this afternoon) my mind started in on the non-stop stream of worst-case scenarios.
What if the doctor can’t help me?
What if he doesn’t believe me?
What if he thinks I’m just some punk looking for a prescription of Xanax?
What if I have to go to a psychiatrist before I can get help?
How will I deal with 2 or 3 or 4 more weeks of this?
What if I DO get a prescription and their are side effects?
You get the picture… And this is not an exaggeration. This is EXACTLY how my mind works. And no matter what I do, I cannot slow it down. It goes and goes and goes. Even on a morning like this, when I KNOW what it’s doing, I’m powerless to stop it.
THAT, my friends, is how GAD controls my life.
So, I went to the doctor and told him all of the stuff I’ve written here, and he said, “Yeah, you seem to be a text book casse of General Anxiety Disorder. Im going to write you two prescriptions and refer you to a psychiatrist who can help you learn some coping mechanisms for when you feel a panic attack coming on.”
Just the words I was hoping (and dreading) he would say. Now this thing that I’ve been dealing with has a name. And just like any demon that needs to be exorcised, you first need to learn its name.
Until I start seeing a psychiatrist and start gathering the natural tools to combat this demon, I’ve been given two manufactured tools - Paxil and Xanax. I haven’t taken any Xanax yet (I haven’t felt the need) but I did take my first dose of Paxil. The list pf possible side effects is terrifying. Just reading it brought me to the brink of a panic attack. But I was able to get it under control.
So far the only adverse side effect of the Paxil is that it tore through my stomach like the Tazmanian Devil through a forest (again, my apologies for the TMI moments). But I can live with that. Hell, I HAVE BEEN living with that.
My goal is to chronicle this battle with GAD as it happens. Shit, I consider myself something of a writer, so I guess this is the best way for me to deal with anything, right? I’m gonna be honest and open about it (it’s the only way I know). I’m sure parts of it are going to be harder than other. I’m sure it’s not going to be all sunshine and roses. But I think writing about it will help. And if, in the process, someone else with GAD reads this and thinks, “Shit, I’m not losing my mind. This happens to other people, too”, well, I can’t ask for more than that.
So bear with me, folks. I think I’m on the road to truly being able to enjoy this incredibly charmed life I lead!
~ Stephen
(02.22.11)
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