Pete and I had the following conversation the other night:
Me (Two beers deep, taking a moment to look up from my MacBook to engage in adult conversation now that the kid was snuggled deep in her bed, and Pete wasn’t working late brainstorming the latest strategy to get people to change insurance companies, or buy more televisions): Do you think I’m anxious? Am I anxious again?
P: What are you talking about?
Me: I don’t know. I think I might be anxious, or maybe a little bit depressed.
P: No, you’re not. You’re fine. You’re doing great.
Me: I don’t know. Do I get mad a lot? You’re always telling me how mad I am. I’m mad all the time, aren’t I? See? That’s a symptom of anxiety. No, depression: that’s a symptom of depression. I think I might be a little depressed. Why do I get so mad?
P: You’re not depressed- nothing has changed. You’ve always been angry. Everyone knows that about you.
(Cue my head starting to explode and I found myself getting- SHOCKER!- angry.)
I am argumentative, aren’t I? If you’re friends with me on Facebook and have paid even a speck of attention to my feed, surely you have seen my defensive rants when I feel like my beliefs are being called into question… or if you’re a Republican. I like to think of it as “feisty, spirited and passionate”, when it usually comes across as “surly bitch”. That isn’t a new development, my steadfastness and quick-to-snap demeanor, I’m pretty sure it’s built-in to my overall make-up, along with unsightly freckles and a good metabolism. I’ve seen traces of it in the three other members of my family. We’re all defensive. We’re all quick to anger and hold grudges that last longer than a box of Twinkies. (Not really. That would be ridiculous considering they have a shelf-life of what? Thirty years?)
Is that okay, though? To get mad so easily? Is it a sign of something more? I mean:
“Everyone knows that about you.”
I fucking hate that.
I spend a lot of time wondering if everyone else feels the same way I do. I look around at other mothers at the playground, other drivers while stopped at red lights and other hikers that pass me on the trails, and wonder if, at that moment, they feel the same way I do: if they ever have. Do they ever feel completely disconnected from their bodies, as if their brains are filled with nothing but cotton candy and they’re living in some kind of dense fog? Sometimes, I do.
Do they ever feel so off-balance that it’s as if they can almost feel the earth spinning, and the dizziness takes their breath away? Sometimes, I do.
Do they ever find themselves compulsively yawning every 30 seconds, inexplicably hyperventilating for no discernible reason? Sometimes, I do.
Do they ever find themselves backing out of social get-togethers at the very last minute because all of a sudden they’re overcome with this sense of doom, crippling nausea and fear? I do. It doesn’t matter if you’re my oldest friend- someone who makes me belly laugh that I have known since my crocheted-vest and choker years- I will still panic about those drinks/that lunch/the playdate. Not all the time, but it happens. Most of the time I internally scold my stupid fucking mind and show up for said get-together, although sometimes it wins for NO GOOD REASON. It’s hard, you know. It’s hard to maintain friendships when everything is such a struggle: when the thought of getting a manicure with a lovely person whose company I enjoy makes me want to throw up. Crazy, right? Who else has a mind like this? Surely nobody. So, for those of you that have fallen victim to my sketchy disappearances:
It’s really not you, at all, any of you. It’s 100% me.
Before you send me concerned emails about this and that medication, and how much SSRIs have changed your life and how there is no reason for anyone to fear manicures with friends: yeah, no shit. I get it. I started Paxil at age 22 or 23 after my panic attacks became so debilitating I found myself in the police station in Penn Station for “heart attacks”. TWICE. I changed to Celexa in my late 20s and only weaned off a month before I conceived Lotte. I wanted to see if I was “okay”. My mother kept telling me my anxiety was “just a phase” and how she had it in her 20s but, “it passed”, so I went for it, and it was scary.
Pregnancy was terrifying. Birth was terrifying. The entire first year at home alone with this new, strange being was terrifying. That wasn’t necessarily anxiety, though, that was just motherhood. Right? I have no idea. Surely I wasn’t the only new mother pushing my Quinny through the streets of Brooklyn in a tear-filled, exhausted haze during those first few months. That shit was hard.
So, it’s been almost 5 years since I stopped taking meds, and not a day passes where I don’t wonder, if only for a fleeting moment, if it’s back. If my drug-free means of coping, which involve berating the shitty feeling until it subsides, are no longer working. If my short temper is a sign of something darker. If the scatter-brained feeling is my brain somehow asking for help, or just the mark of a tired parent. We’ll see.
For now, please be patient with me, because I *might* blow off your barbeque/holiday party/dinner invitation.
Although you probably already knew that about me.
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I am so glad you wrote this, because this is SO me. I worry all the time something is really wrong with me bc I am SO quick to anger, very ranty, and very anxious. I back out of crap all the time bc of anxiety. PLEASE, I even have anxiety if I pass a policeman when there is road work bc I just KNOW he is going to A)be judging my hair/sunglasses/clothes/car or 2)remember my face from a most wanted poster from something horrible I did, unknowingly. I cancel appts/get togethers/anything all the time bc I just cannot deal. I suck at small talk. I get pissed off easily and probably offend everyone, all the time. I am too steadfast in my beliefs, and think everyone else is just plain stupid, sometimes. Last year I dropped out of a mom’s group, and left in a blaze of glory let me tell ya, bc someone made an ignorant comment about Autism (which kid 1 has) and NO ONE came to my defense. I was like, WTF? And I basically let them all know, in no uncertain terms, what was up.
And, see, most people would just let it go. I can never let anything go. And I will cut you off in a second, too. I don’t forgive. I so get that. I can hold a grudge til the end of time.
Anywho, I loved Paxil. That was my miracle drug…but the one, “BIG” side effect, I couldn’t deal with. I mean, I felt like my life was already spiraling, let alone having THAT taken away…anywho, won’t go into the whole TMI realm, but you know what I mean. I need some joy in life. I loved that drug, though. Sometimes I try and convince myself to just go back on, and who cares about what I lose bc of it…not there yet.
I get the fog, I get all of it. I am glad I am not alone.
Oh, my god- the COP THING. I tense up EVERY TIME, and that’s a few times a day! I’m like, “Here we go! He’s going to arrest me!”.
As for Paxil: yes. I know. I hear you.
Ditto. That is all. (p.s. appointment this afternoon to talk about my zoloft prescription). You’re not alone.
It’s annoying, isn’t it? To see the “normal” people?
You are so brave for writing this! And I know exactly how you feel. I too am angry all the time, and come off as a “surly bitch”. I had a friend tell me “all my friends think you’re stuck up, like you think you’re better than them”. Um… Ok? Am I really that defensive/offensive/pushy!!
Sometimes I have this weird feeling where I can’t tell if everything is real or is this some kind of nightmare? Like, am I meant to always feel slightly sick and like I can’t breathe? Do normal people become debilitated trying to decide which route to drive to get to Whole Foods?
It’s good to not feel like the only crazy one! Hell, we’re probably the normal ones! Xoxo
Ugh. A friend really told you that?! That’s fucking lame. Maybe you ARE better than them.
I’m 22, and I’ve started having panic attacks and more severe anxiety over the past 6 months, and it’s been tough. Right now I’m taking beta blockers occasionally when my chest feels tight, or when I think I might punch someone in the neck and then cry at them for a long time. I can relate because I don’t know whether I should be taking something consistently, or if it’s something I can get through on my own. It’s a difficult decision for me because my mother was always on something, but the problems always seemed to change instead of get better, and growing up with that made for a pretty terrible childhood.
Everyone has their own struggles and issues, probably even some of the friends you feel like you’re blowing off! You’re not crazy and you’re not alone.
I’m so sorry you’re going through this. My really bad panic attacks started at 22. Exactly. I had them here and there when i was younger, but they came in ruthlessly and hardcore at 22. You might not need a constant med: for some people even knowing they have a xanax or beta blocker on them, without even taking them, makes them calm down- like a security blanket.
There are other things you can try: running, yoga, painting, writing- you name it. Things that make you happy and keep your mind from going haywire. Don’t feel ashamed if you eventually give in to an SSRI, though. They can be a lifesaver.
I think, it’s whether it’s all the time or sometimes that makes the difference. Or if there is just no reason at all–if you can’t be happy when things are going pretty dang well, then there is a flag. But we people are so stupid to think that, when we’re undergoing stressful times we should medicate away anxiety. I think we evolved to feel this to help us not just stand there and get mauled by a lion. And, I think it’s okay to have periods when you’re just low. It’s all about balance. Does that make any sense? (Maybe I’m just trying to legitimize my own ways, haha.)
YES YES YESSSSS. I agree with you 1 million percent. Sometimes, it’s okay to just feel sad. Or stressed. That’s called life, and might not be a symptom of something larger.
Exactly! Life! I have a family history that makes it worthwhile to keep on top of things (ahem), and as such, I often do those assessments you come across here and there, and I really think, yeah, I do tend towards having that kind of depression where you just get low now and then, but also, I am like the lady in the circus spinning plates. My husband is a big old ADD dude, and also, oh, a MAN, which means he’s a double whammy at times expecting me to do everything this side of going to work and doing his job for him–and I generally accept that’s just who he is. He was that dude when we dated, he was that dude when we lived together, and he’s just that dude. Adding in 3 kids, and a household, and all that… and sometimes the plates just tumble. I poop out for a week or three maybe not seasonally, but somewhere between 2-3 times a year. Then I pick up myself and carry on. I’ve decided to be okay with it, because I’m actually a human being and going to falter, and even when I’m pooped out, it’s more like I’m just not caring about the minutia like the house, and whether everyone’s lunches are “inspired.” C’est la vie. (But, if I were to just be like that for months, I’d reconsider whether I was too low.)
My dog yawns every 30 seconds when she is nervous.
Not the same thing likely.
Sorry….super poor attempt at humor. But I tried right?! In all seriousness, I hope writing it out DID make you feel some better. It seems to be good therapy.
OMG! My dog does the same thing! We’re all nuts!
There is so much I want to say, but lest my comment end up longer than your post, I’ll leave it at I am the person who delayed a flight unable to breath until they assured me they had an oxygen tank and mask by my side, among other things. I’ve been there too many times. My heart is with yours. cx
Tracy- I give you so much credit for writing so honestly! You are definitely not alone. My panic attacks started my senior year of High School. While living in Arlington and having just transferred to my 3rd High School and attempting to once again try to fit in somewhere and make new friends with sometimes crippling anxiety and depression. The heart attack thing I so relate to. In my 20s I once called 911 while home alone in my apartment because I thought I WAS having a full blown heart attack! (I also battle hypochondria everyday- I believe as a result of being diagnosed with Crohns as a child and spending most of my childhood in and out of the hospital). Shortly after my “heart attack” I developed a slight case of agoraphobia in which I would only leave my apartment if my then boyfriend accompanied me. I have tried quite a few drugs until I decided I had to try it on my own. I hate taking meds, especially anything that fucks with my already fucked up head! I started a blog like what a year ago and I wrote one blog entry and one Wordless Wednesday because I cannot bring myself to write publicly without an innate fear of rejection from the one or two people that might actual read the darn thing! Being a Mommy has only increased my anxiety levels by 8 billion percent because now I get to worry not only about my impending doom but that of my two beautiful kids! I look forward to reading blogs like yours and the few other women that I have found who just tell it like it is and don’t make any apologies for who they are! I am happy to say that I haven’t suffered a full blown panic attack in at least ten years and somehow my crazy brain has learned to talk itself out of the anxieties for the most part but I’m known by my closest friends as The Flake for constantly backing out of plans at the last minute!
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And now it’s time for me to leave you a proper comment. I love you so much for this!
I’m so angry all the time. Like irrationaly so. I get so up in arms about the most inane things. I need things to be just so. I’m very black or white, wrong or right. There’s not a whole lot of grey area in my life. Apparenlty that a teensy bit Type A – OCD ish ness. Though I knew all that way before I was ever in therapy as an adult.
I hate it about myself. I hate that people see me as the negative one. I hate that it takes over my days sometimes. I’ll get myself into such a funk that I can’t function.
I know, that without help, I will spread this nastiness onto my kids. Alexa’s already too much like me to be immune. I HAVE to get things under control for her and Emma.
Thank you so much for publishing this post. It is so reassuring and validating to read that someone else has gone through the same struggles as me.
I’m 19 and I am struggling with anxiety. My anxiety is about a very specific situation and is triggered by that. It’s not Generalized Anxiety Disorder and I’m thankful for that because I’m not anxious 100% of the time but even so, it’s really really hard. I just wrote a whole post about it on my blog here (http://thecollegecommuter.wordpress.com/2012/08/19/how-do-you-let-go-of-fear) and when I read it through, I realized that it makes me sound crazy. Sometimes I feel fricking crazy. And more than that, I feel ashamed of my anxiety because I’m worried about being judged for it. But, short of going to the dr and getting anxiety meds, I don’t know how to fully break out of the cycle. I’m going to see a counselor soon but to be honest, I don’t know how much they will be able to help. I’ve had anxiety for approx. eight years and it’s pretty deep-seated.
Ugh, it’s horrible. I know how you feel. I do the whole compulsive yawning thing when my anxiety is bad. And when I’m in the throes of a panic attack (fortunately they’ve only been happening about once every few months but I’m terrified they’re going to happen more often, especially since I’m dealing with some stressful stuff at the moment), I feel disconnected from reality. I had a panic attack when I was at college last year and I was walking along the sidewalk feeling like I was in my own foggy litte, hyperventilating bubble. It is hard, it really is.
PS. Sorry if the link in my post looks like I’m shamelessly plugging my blog. I’m not!
PPS. Getting mad easily at Republicans isn’t being a “surly bitch”. It’s just called common sense.