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Letting go of 'that' secret
Posted Wednesday 4 July 2012
When I was a teenager I was diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. I secretly studied it everywhere I could, trawling the internet for information on this strange, absurd, embarrassing condition. Somehow I knew from the very beginning it had to be hidden.
At times I tried to tell the odd person, the consensus being that I was simply growing up. I knew it was more. I knew throwing up every morning (never on purpose) was not just a part of adolescence. I couldn’t ‘just calm down’ at my 18th birthday party when the nerves made me vomit. But I couldn’t explain what was wrong, so I didn’t.
I lied. I lied to a lot of people about what was going on. I was controlled by this mysterious thing, day after day, but pretended everything was okay. I wouldn’t tell anyone I had compromised my life.
So that first time I tried to tell people, I stalled. After that, it came out in dribs and drabs for years. Until eventually, this method of trying to ignore my ill health came to a climax, and my life stopped.
By the time I had developed agoraphobia it became much harder to hide. During another public panic attack I phoned my mum in real distress. I was crying and shaking, clinging to that phone like it was oxygen. It must have been horrible for her but she did the right thing. She called my dad and before I knew it my family realised I was in real trouble. Suddenly this thing I had been fighting to suppress had been let go. It was such a relief.
Once my close friends and family knew, regardless of whether they understood, they were there for me. Coming to visit when I couldn’t leave the house and accompanying me in person or by phone when it was too hard to go out alone. They just did whatever it took to get me through those dark days. And I have no doubt that if it wasn’t for them taking some of the weight, I simply wouldn’t have survived.
Now when I tell people about my anxiety and depression many respond by saying ‘me too’. We all have these experiences, some more extreme than others. They don’t define who we are. Having a problem with mental health is just like having a physical one. I don’t know why it took me so long to realise, but there is absolutely no reason to be ashamed. Letting go of that shame has liberated me from anxiety more than any medication or therapy ever did.
To anyone with ‘that’ secret, I hope you can turn to someone and tell them how you feel. Share the burden. You don’t need to tell the world, just someone who cares. When you feel ready to do this we will be here waiting for you. I know there are people out there who care about you, because I am one of them.
Amy
If you feel overwhelmed by anxiety, there are things you can do and places you can go for support. Follow Amy on Twitter.
3 Comments
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Hi Amy. Brilliant post and I am glad of your happy ending.
I do not wish at all to sound pessimistic, but I found the acceptance you were so fortunate to find, rare. I have found my reputation to be compromised upon the admittal of a depression disorder. My thoughts and feelings are contained in the following... Again I do not wish to sound hopeless I would just like the opportunity to express publically how prejudiced I feel people still are and I seek reassurance perhaps that I am wrong, or to be told I am not alone in how I feel.
“To All the Self-Made Samaritans;
People suffering from mental disorders, grief and depression are constantly encouraged to get help; talk and discuss every minor detail of their thoughts, feelings and experiences; confide in friends and family, a problem shared and all that!
As soon as you admit to people you have problems, they never see you in the same light again. Your advice is tainted as you must be irrational and unreasonable. People belittle the things you say, and they stop trying to understand why you’re unhappy, you’re mental, that’s it therefore your problems aren’t as big of a deal as you think.
Attention seeking is another wonderful prejudice that comes after a diagnosis. We’re told over and over to ‘seek help’ and when we do we’re weak, we are drama queens and no-one takes you seriously anymore.
Many victims of suicide are individuals that others think are the happiest souls in the world. A lot of us hide our problems, embarrassed or scared to speak them aloud the result of this can be tragic. But personally I wish I had never been diagnosed. I could have carried on being the confident outgoing girl everyone deemed me and suffered alone or I could have suffered nothing at all anymore.
I’m never allowed to be sad these days; instead I’m ‘having an episode’. I’m never allowed to be silly and playful; instead I’m ‘in a manic state’.
I am subordinate and inferior and spoke to as such by old friends who all now deem themsel -
Thank you for posting your story. I lived with my house mate for 4 years before her anxiety came on 'full-stream'. The change in her was overwhelming at times. I had to remember who she really was as often the anxiety and panic attacks changed her so much it was unbearable. It's been a couple of years now and she has finally understood herself enough that her life has finally some equilibrium. It is soooooo wonderful to see, this beautiful friend happy in her skin again. But it has been a looooong journey. I remember her showing me this post once that she found very helpful so I thought I'd include it incase others did too: http://balanceinme.com/real-balance/anxiety-treatment/
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Your story, is inspiring to us all. I notice the relief that you had when your anxiety had become public. As you say, I have found anxiety does not define you, it is part of you in the same way as others migh have a physical illness such as epilepsy.
It sounds like you are taking the steps to get back to who you want to be and I would echo your sentiment to 'Share the burden. You don’t need to tell the world, just someone who cares'
Take care
Graeme
www.consideratecounselling.co.uk
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