Anxiety; It Isn’t Funny

Anxiety isn’t funny, it is misunderstood and dangerous. I watched the movie The Good Dinosaur the other night and I cried through the majority of it. For anyone who hasn’t seen it; you should it is amazing. I had never connected to a character so personally, and I have never seen anxiety shown in that depth. Everything about that movie was so true it got every detail right even down to the misunderstanding of anxiety. Anxiety is used as a synonym for nerves, or fear but it isn’t, it is so much more than that. The word anxiety gets thrown around like it doesn’t mean anything; but for people who have anxiety the word is incredibly weighted. Often when I tell a teacher or someone in a position of authority that I have severe anxiety, I get disbelieving looks and told to “just push through it” or “do it anyway”.  The term is so overused that it has lost all of its meaning, and yet with everyone throwing the term around the concept of anxiety is still not well understood. Anxiety is one of the more difficult things to explain but I will do my best.

Anxiety is never knowing where you stand. The most trivial things can bring on a panic attack. The person with anxiety may know that there is nothing scary going on but anxiety doesn’t know that. Anxiety takes on a life of its own, controlling and hurting everyone it comes in contact with. Anxiety doesn’t discriminate and can happen to anyone. Most people with anxiety don’t even realize that they have it or how big of an impact it has on their lives. They don’t know what it is like to live without anxiety for them the fear is just a part of who they were.

Think of anxiety as Piglet. This is a strategy that one of my therapists told me about. Take Piglet from Winnie The Poo, Piglet is anxiety. Always asking what if and always worrying. Picture having Piglet living in your brain questioning everything you do. Saying that something bad could happen at any second, this little baby pig could ruin your life. However picturing it as a little baby pig can make it much less scary, you can hug it and tell it everything will be okay.

I have anxiety for as long as I remember. Being scared to stand up in class, or to ask an adult for a bandaid. I wouldn’t eat at school because I was scared to have to get up to throw my garbage out. I would practice saying here as many times as I could before my name was called for attendance. One little slip up would ruin a whole day. My grades suffered because I was afraid to ask for help, I would resent my teachers for not understanding me.

I just recently started therapy, and it has opened a whole new door for me. Learning how to get through the anxiety, getting to know so much more about myself and being able to open up to people has made me so much happier. Anxiety weighed me down, made me lose sleep, made me bitter and irritable.   Anxiety is a big deal.

I am tired of people making light of such a serious issue. Anxiety isn’t something to “just get over” it is hard and people with it sometimes need a helping hand. There is no shame in asking for help or helping anyone. Anxiety needs to be spoken about, in the open and recognized as a serious issue. The more it is talked about the more it will be understood and the easier it will be fore people who suffer with it to ask for help.

To My Cousin

 

All my life you have looked down on me. Treated me like a child, talked down to me and acted as if I were less of a person than you. I wasn’t used to being treated like a child even when I was one, my parents never baby talked me and I was treated more as an equal than as a child. It is because of this that I have always been mature for my age. However, you saw me as a play thing, a little doll who you could toy with. I never liked you, some of my earliest memories include running and hiding from you, and telling my parents that I didn’t like you because you treated me like a child.

I am currently 18 years old and you still treat me like a child. It angers me, it is an insult to everything I am and everything I have gone through. You don’t even consider me an equal. Every time I see you I hope that maybe, just maybe this time it will be different maybe you will treat me with dignity this time; but every time I leave feeling small and insignificant. Maybe it has to do with you being a middle child or maybe you were treated that way, but I am not a child. I am mature, I have seen things and done things that would terrify you, in the past year I have gone through more than most people will in a lifetime.  I have learned that life is hard and unforgiving, I learned to deal with loss at a young age after my best friend killed himself when I was 12. I have suffered from self hatred and the struggle to be perfect since I was 5. I was dieting when I was 10. I wanted to die when I was 11. I am not a child, it is an insult to everything I have gone through. I don’t want to be treated like a child, I don’t want you to talk down to me, it breaks my heart every time you do it.

I am smart, I have a great deal of potential, and I could change the world someday. You don’t know any of this or any of the other wonderful things that I have to offer because you never engage in a legitimate conversation with me. Every conversation we have includes you subtly putting me down. I don’t like it. I may be younger in age but not in my brain. I have a unique perspective and unique thoughts, I would love to share these with you, but you only seem able to see the age difference between us. I wish I could share my voice with you, I wish I could show you the amazing women that I have become. I wish I could somehow become an adult in your eyes.

The way you treat me has caused me to resent you for my whole life. Even hate you at times, but now I want nothing to do with you. As much as I wish I could show you who I have become I know that it is you who is missing out, not me. I am civil towards you because we live in the same town and I see you from time to time. I feel no obligation or ties to you, and once I have the option I will distance myself from you. Just because you are my family doesn’t me I have to allow you to treat me like you do. I can now stand up for myself and do what is best for me. I don’t need to be around people who treat me like you do.

So goodbye.

Do you ever wonder?

Do you ever wonder how different your life would be if one or two things had happened differently? Like if you hadn’t switched schools, maybe you wouldn’t be an anxious head case. Or maybe if you did’t move your parents would still be together and you wouldn’t want to kill yourself.

I do. I wonder it all the time. I wonder that if I had just told my parents how I felt maybe I wouldn’t be like I am today. Maybe if they had let me quit the french program when I wanted to none of the bad things would have ever happened to me. Maybe if I had just been friends with someone else…. or if I had grown up somewhere else. Maybe somewhere out there there would have been a happy version of me.

But then I think that if there is a version of me who is happier then there is probably a version that is sadder. Maybe a girl who doesn’t have friends, whose parents don’t show their love, a girl who goes in and out of hospital like its a hospital, or maybe there’s a version of me who succeeded in killing myself. What would that be like? Would my parents be the ones who are wondering what could have happened differently. They would blame themselves and I wouldn’t be alive to tell them no, its not your fault. Its nobody’s fault.

Maybe this version isn’t the worst, maybe I should be looking at all the positive things that happened, if I hadn’t stayed in the french program I might not have met such amazing people. After all I’m surviving this version and I’m actually starting to thrive.

So I’ll be thankful for this, for this life, for my choices and for the people who I am blessed to be able to call my friends.

I Tried to Kill Myself

On October 7th 2015 I tied to kill myself.

I was feeling horrible, my brain wasn’t making sense everything was all jumbled together. I didn’t plan on it. It just seemed like the only way to find clarity. I opened the linen closet and I saw the bottle of pain killers, I looked onto my dresser and I saw my bottle of meds, and in that moment I decided to die. My dad was downstairs, less than 20 feet away but I didn’t even think of him. All I could think of were the meds. I took eight of my medication, and 20 of the painkillers and I went to bed. In the moment it all seemed so peaceful, if I died, I would die and it would all be over but if it didn’t work I would just try again the next night. I had made up my mind and I felt at peace with my decision, I wasn’t afraid. I wasn’t afraid when I woke up in the middle of the night in the worst pain I have ever felt. Not even when I was puking over the toilet, I was never scared, just calm just waiting to go to sleep and never wake up.

But I did wake up. And I did get help, I spent a week in a hospital with people in worse shape than I was. It sounds cheesy to say it but it changed me. I remember that night a little differently now.

I remember gagging as I tried to swallow all the pills, I remember almost throwing up as I tried to get all the pills down. I remember crying and feeling so sick. I remember the guilt when my dad came to say goodnight completely clueless to what I had done. I remember throwing up and thinking briefly that I should go tell my dad, but I didn’t. Looking back that peace I felt was really just everything thing in me giving up. I am forever grateful that my body didn’t give up even after my brain had. My body managed to filter out all the drugs and didn’t let me die that night. Even when I had given up on everything one part of me kept working, wouldn’t let me die. My eating disorder taught me to not trust my body but thinking back on that night made me realize how much I should have trusted my body. Even when my brain let me down my body refused to give up, while I was preparing to die it kept fighting for me. Without it I wouldn’t be alive today.

 

To the People Who I Treated Poorly

I had never thought about it before, but last night I realized how mean I was to some people last year. I felt horrible and it really made me doubt myself as a person, until I realized that it wasn’t really me. All last year my eating disorder was really present in my life, and an eating disorder’s main job is to identify people who might be able to help you and to then push them away. So I was a bitch to everyone who could help me, and I made them think I hated them, even though I didn’t.

So for anyone who has ever pushed anyone away due to your mental illness, remember it wasn’t your fault. Apologize and move on, work hard to be nice and you will feel much better on the inside. Walk around and smile at people, it will improve your mood and make you feel great when someone smiles back.

I want to make up for how I treated my friends and to do that I make a promise to be the best friend to them.

A Letter to the Teacher Who I Wish Would Understand

I know I am not the best student, I like to talk to my friends, I don’t always listen and I don’t always participate. I know that is all you see, I know that is all you can see, and I also know that you probably don’t really care about what happens in my life outside of school. That’s okay, I don’t really care what happens in your life either, but the difference between me and you is that I have the ability to understand that your life isn’t perfect, you get sick, you have bad days, you are human. You don’t seem willing to feel any empathy towards me, understandable, you don’t know anything about me and my presence in your class doesn’t make an impact.

You don’t know this but I am a pretty impressive person, I have lived through a lot of shit, I have felt things no one should ever have to feel and I have hurt myself in ways no one should ever hurt, but I managed to survive it all and even come out better on the other side. I have a lot of interesting perspectives and I am actually quite smart, but I hate getting things wrong. I don’t raise my hand or answer anything in class because I am terrified of getting anything wrong. Every time I get the wrong answer there is a voice in my head calling me a failure, a waste of space and stupid. Tests terrify me, pages upon pages of questions and marks, the perfect opportunity to judge me. My brain shuts down the second I see a test, the voice takes over and I cry. The tears are a mix of frustration and self-hatred. I have only made it through 2 tests in the past 2 years without breaking down, which was in my personal life management class and with a teacher who I trust.

I don’t trust you, and that is what makes it so bad. You don’t seem to mind calling people out in class, taunting them and drawing attention to them. That is my worst nightmare, I can’t come up and ask you question because I am afraid you are going to ridicule me in front of the class, even your looks of disappointment make me feel like a failure. I am not comfortable with you, I am not comfortable talking to you, at anytime, with people around or without, so I can’t tell you about the things that make me uncomfortable, or that bring on my anxiety or even ask you a question.

So I am genuinely sorry for not being a better student, but I can’t change my behaviour right away, it takes time. Getting me to the point of showing up for class took months, it is a process. I just wish you would take the time to understand. It might be good practice for you, you have kids and it is impossible to know what will happen to them in their lives. Take a minute to realize I have issues, issues I am trying to work through, but issues that can paralyze me. It might be hard for you to empathize with me but believe me when I say it is way harder for me to walk through that door everyday.

A Letter to the Teacher Who Stole a Year of My Life

I blame you for a lot of what has happened to me in the last year and a half. I blame you for my missed classes, my bad marks and my permanent distrust of all authority figures.  I think of you and I can’t help but feel and combination of fear, anger, resentment and sadness rising up in me. I’m not sure if I will ever be able to forgive you for all the pain you caused me, and the worst part is; you have no idea what you did.

It happened October 2014, I was in my grade eleven year and for the first time you were the drama teacher. I had heard the horror stories from the other students who had had you but I wasn’t going to let the rumors make me drop my favourite class. Although, there are sometimes that I wish I had dropped it. The second unit we were doing involved using all the senses on stage; the class was put into groups and we were asked to create a sensory journey for our classmates. As I was preparing with my group I couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen when I was blindfolded and lead through the journey. Even just thinking about it left my hands sweaty, my heart racing and I quite couldn’t catch my breath. I went to you to express my discomfort and to see if there was anyway that I didn’t have to participate. You just looked at me with a look of confusion and told me I couldn’t because I would fail the assignment if I didn’t participate. Now you did try to make it easier allowing me to watch others go through the journey so I would know what was going to happen. However that didn’t make me feel even the slightest bit better and I was too scared to say anything.

On the day that I was supposed to go through the Journey I couldn’t concentrate in my classes, I kept taking the rescue remedy pills my mom had gotten for me to help with the fear. When it came time for drama I sat and watched my classmates going through the Journey I couldn’t find my breath and my vision was blurry. I stepped out into the hall to be blindfolded. The second the blindfold covered my eyes I experienced my very first panic attack; although I was unaware of it at the time. I was hyperventilating, I was light headed and I was crying. You asked if I was okay, and when I said no you told me I’d be fine as soon as I started, then you opened the door and pushed me into the room. I held onto my guide for my life. I was petrified; the tears had stopped and my breathing was shallow and even. I was frozen, my mind was racing and I wanted to scream, run and yell but I couldn’t. I couldn’t see. I couldn’t think clearly. My legs were stiff and I could hardly feel them. When I was finally led out of the room and left alone in the hall I ripped off the blindfold, ran to the bathroom and puked and puked until my throat was raw. I was shaking and white and my legs felt like jelly.

You see, I felt tiny when you didn’t listen to me. I felt insignificant when you didn’t think about my well being. That is why I blame you. You set off the domino effect that lead me to be hospitalized three times in 8 months. You opened the door to my anxiety; after that incident I started having daily panic attacks and in 3 months time I was having at least 5 a day. I stopped attending classes because I was afraid of breaking down in the middle of the class. I failed tests because my anxiety. I dropped classes because of my anxiety. Even when I was out of your class your actions were still affecting me, and they continue to affect me to this day. I can’t trust anyone in a position of authority, I don’t trust that they will listen, I don’t trust that they have my best interests in mind. I don’t trust them at all.

I wish that in that moment you had looked at me and realized that something was wrong, that I didn’t need to be pushed but instead all I needed someone to talk to me. I needed support, I was struggling and I didn’t have a clue. I wish you would have recognized that I was having a panic attack, I wish you would have asked if I needed help. I understand that you were probably distracted, but I needed you. I needed you to tell me what was going on and to help me. I needed you to notice that something was wrong. People like me don’t need much, we just need someone to listen and to notice when something isn’t right.  I wish you had known what to look for, I wish you had been educated so that you might have been able to educate me. I hope in the future you will be more aware of struggling students, I hope you will listen to them, and I hope you will try to help. That’s all we really need from our teachers; just someone to talk to, someone who will look out for us. Someone who will help us build ourselves back up when everything around us is trying to tear us down. We just need someone to listen.

Nothing can be done for my experience, it happened. I don’t even expect an apology from you. All I wish is for you to recognize and learn for this experience. You teach vulnerable children every day and the impact you have on them is incredible. All I am asking for is for you to consider others in your decision making. Everyone is fighting a unique battle that you know nothing about, and you behavior towards them is crucial. I am asking for you to take time and really listen to your students, because there are times when failing isn’t the worst thing that could happen.

 

Change

I think I need a change. I need to try some new things, I need to take a bit to make my own choices and realize some new things about myself. I’m going to start buying books, lots and lots of books, anytime I find a book I want to read I will buy it, no matter if I already have a lot of unread books. I’m going to change my room, I want to add some different stuff to it to make it mine. I want a mandala tapestry because I love mandala and because of this I’m going to stat looking into and understanding the culture. I am going to start fresh and figure some things out about me. So when people think about me they know that I am the girl with lots of books, not just the girl with the eating disorder. I’m going to start creating myself, because I don’t think that who I am will just come to me one night. I’m going to have to go out and make myself up. I will do what I like, buy what I like, make my room how I like and read what I like. My music is already mine, I decide what songs I like instead of waiting for other people to like them.

So far I know that I love books. I love the smell of books, I love reading books and I love book stores. I love deep vibrant, bright colours that make you feel a certain way. I like learning other cultures and I like having opinions on subjects. I like to be worldly and to know what I want. I like to be surrounded by things that make me comfortable and I love adventure. I like to remember my adventures, I like pictures of my adventures. I also like to be disconnected and just be able to enjoy the world around me.

I like danger and adventure too. The rush of adrenaline makes me feel more alive I haven’t figured out if that is a bad or good thing yet. Beats cutting myself.

I have to Believe

The only feelings that I am comfortable with feeling are pain and sadness. When I am sad and in pain Ed gets his way, so Ed doesn’t let me feel happy. I am scared to be happy because then I will get hurt and I might not notice someone who is lying to me. Ed tells me that I am not a happy person, that I was never meant to be a happy person. if I act happy then I am just a fake. A poser. People don’t want to be around me when I am sad, that’s how Ed pushes people away. I am scared of opening up to people because Ed tells me that everyone is just using me. I can’t trust anyone but Ed, because Ed tells me that he has never once lied to me or let me down.

Ed has lied. I do deserve to live. Ed is the one who is using me. And its all just for his own twisted mind games. Ed has tried to control every part of my life and up until this point he has succeed. I don’t know how I will ever beat him but I have to believe. Even when I have no answers. I have to believe that life isn’t supposed to be like this. I have to believe that there is something more for me out there. I have to believe that I didn’t die for a reason. I have to find something to give me hope, to give me a purpose. I need to find anything that keeps me getting out of bed every morning. Because one of these mornings I will wake up without Ed. I have to believe that, that is possible. Because if I can’t believe I don’t think I could ever succeed.

A Day in My Life with ED

During my recovery I have come to realize all of the stigmas that come with Eating Disorders. Many people do not recognize how difficult it is to live with an Eating Disorder. It is not all about food and exercising, it is many the thoughts or worthlessness that come with having an Eating Disorder. So I thought I would lay out a brief example of the struggles that many people face on a day to day basis.

I wake up for the first time at 2:00am, the house is quiet and for a brief moment the Voice is too. Then it starts, everyone is asleep no one would notice if you snuck in a run right now, I do my best to ignore the Voice knowing that I need to recover and going for a run in the middle of the night is not the way to do it. I get up and go to the washroom, when I return to bed I am pretty awake and I lay very still staring at my ceiling. Why don’t you start some school work? It would be good to finish that English project and you aren’t that tired anyway, I roll over knowing that I need my sleep, I repeat in my head “my health is more important that school, my health is more important than school, my health is more important than school.” The Voice doesn’t like this, I am winning I am justifying my sleep. Look how fat and lazy you are! You won’t go for a run and you won’t even sit in bed and do some homework. You won’t ever amount to anything go along like this. You will never amount to anything with this work ethic, you would be fine if you listened to me. You have no determination any more. I squeeze my eyes shut tight trying to drown out the noise in my head, until I fall back asleep.

I wake up to my alarm at 7:00, rolling over and hitting the snooze 4 times until I can actually open my eyes. I lay in bed as the thoughts pour in told you, you should have done homework last night. You would have actually gotten somewhere today, but instead you decided to be a lazy ass. Ready to go to school? See those people? They are going to be watching you judging you, waiting for you to fuck up. You will fuck up. Will you actually go to class today? Or will you just be lazy and fail? Look at the time you are already going to be late. I sit up and roll out of bed. The Voice keeps going as I get ready picking apart everything that I do.

The morning is hard because I am standing in front of a mirror for half an hour. Every minor flaw and imperfection is pointed out and magnified. Is that a pimple?!? Everyone is going to be able to see it and they will all be staring at it. Who wants to talk to a girl with a pimple? I know I wouldn’t.  I listen to the Voice and I consider just faking sick so I can stay home, but if I do that I will probably miss too much in class and I’m already failing. I quickly fix my makeup it isn’t good enough and I messed up a lot but I can’t take looking at my face for much longer.

I walk over to my closet dreading the idea of getting dressed I wish it was acceptable to just wear pjs to school but it isn’t, I always have to look perfect. You can’t wear that today, it shows off your fat. you have a muffin top in those jeans and that tank shows your huge hips. You better wear a scarf with that sweater so you can hide your pimple in it during the day. I check my stomach out in the mirror before I put my top on. Look at all that fat, you are so much bigger than you were yesterday, you ate too much. Aren’t you hanging out with your boyfriend tonight? You can’t eat at all today because you are already fat enough and you don’t want him to dump your fatass. I swear its like you actually want to get fat. Are you even trying to lose weight?  I quickly pull my shirt over my head so I can’t see my figure anymore. I feel even more disgusting, and all I want to do is crawl back into bed and not move.

I quickly head downstairs before my mom so I can pretend to  make and eat some breakfast. This keeps the Voice at bay, he likes it when I only pretend to eat. I hear my mom coming downstairs so I start making my lunch. Good God I hope you aren’t actually going to eat all that. This is why you are so fat. Look at all that food, you better throw that out as soon as you get to school so you aren’t tempted to eat during the day. I put my lunch into my bag and say goodbye to my mom, then I head out to my bus stop. I stand in the cold waiting for my bus and I feel like crying, I feel so alone, and small, and broken. I feel a heaviness in my chest that makes it hard to breath, I close my eyes and try to picture a good day at school, its all I can do to keep from crying.

I see my bus, and my chest tightens. Oh don’t trip now you’ll look like a fool. Say hello to the bus driver unless you want him to think you are a bitch. Hurry pick a seat, but not that one that’s too close to that person. You are taking too long. How hard is it to pick a fucking seat?!? I sit down and stare at out the window. The rest of the bus ride is pretty uneventful. So is the rest of the school day, basically all the Voice tells me is how dumb and worthless I am. It tells me that I look like crap and everyone knows how useless I am, by the time first period is over I already feel like crying, but I don’t. I laugh and smile with my friends pretending like everything is okay. I had thrown out my lunch and by 3:00 I can almost feel my stomach turning over and eating its self from the inside out. Still I resist the urge to eat.

When I get home the house is empty, my mom is at work. I throw my bag on my bed and I immediately go to my mirror to check my fat levels. Look at that a little smaller than this morning, now that’s almost acceptable for your boyfriend to see you like. Still remember to suck in and don’t eat at his house. You’ll be okay trust me. I see his car in the driveway so I grab my phone and head out the door. Sitting in the car and he asks how my day was I smile and say good without thinking. He reaches over and puts his hand on my thigh I flinch and the touch. Look at how fat your thigh is. Don’t think he doesn’t notice, believe me he does. I hold back tears and swallow the lump in my throat. We get back to his house and his mom has dinner ready, I say that I’m not hungry and I ate already.

We go into his room and put movie on. I’m laying on his bed pretending to watch the movie but I’m really just listening to the Voice in my head. Just wait until he touches you and gets disgusted. He’s never going to want you. You are so disgusting and fat, he’s just horny, he’s just with you to get in your pants. He rolls over and puts his arm around me and touches my stomach with the other. I freeze he is feeling all of my fat, I close my eyes pretending to be somewhere else, anywhere else. I roll towards him and I start kissing him. He stops touching my stomach and I momentarily feel better. But then he’s touching my back and all I can think of is all my back fat. The he puts his hand on my butt and I’m reminded of everything that’s wrong with that. I know a normal person would be enjoying this, but I just can’t all I can think of are my flaws. This continues on and off until I decide its time to leave.

When I get home I say a quick hello to my mom, I tell her about the delicious dinner that I didn’t eat, and she smiles and tells me she’s proud of me. I get upstairs and I fall into my bed. The Voice doesn’t even have to say anything I already feel disgusting but of course that doesn’t matter. Well that wasn’t fun, it probably sucked for him, having to kiss you. Just wait until you are skinny, then it will be better, you will be confident and sexy. But you can’t be sexy with all those rolls. I take my makeup off with out looking in the mirror. I cover the bathroom mirror up while I take a shower so I don’t have to see myself. Look at how fat you are. I can’t wait until you are toned and skinny, just think of how happy you will be. You will be okay in a bathing suit, and you won’t have to worry about what other people think. Don’t worry you will get there. I’ve got you. I hurriedly dry myself off and get into my pjs.

I lay in bed and the failure of the day comes rushing back to me. I’m supposed to be fighting this thing and yet I didn’t eat at all today. I let the Voice win again, I am weak. I can’t even fight. I feel so hopeless and alone even with all the noise in my head. I feel so alone. I am alone. So alone. The tears that I held back all day slide from my eyes. I close my eyes and let the tears come until I fall asleep.