First, let me respond to people who
say, “But everybody experiences anxiety.” Yes, everyone experiences anxiety,
but not everyone experiences anxiety DISORDER. There’s a difference. Anxiety is
a normal physiological response to stimuli that require your focus and drive to
increase. You might be anxious while giving a speech in front of a large audience.
You might be stressed during an exam. You might be alarmed if you lose your
wallet. You might panic if you slip on the stairs. Anxiety is beneficial
sometimes, because it raises your level of alertness. It’s an alarm system— a mechanism
that your body uses to elevate your attention and energy in order for you to react
quickly under certain circumstances. Therefore, it’s completely normal to
encounter anxiety every now and then, in situations that call for it. However,
in some people, this normal biological function goes haywire. When your anxiety
is too high and is stimulated repeatedly, to a point where it affects your ability
to function psychologically, socially, and academically/occupationally, that’s
when it turns into a disorder. When your anxiety is triggered senselessly by
stimuli that normally shouldn’t cause anxiety, that’s when it becomes
problematic.
I was diagnosed with generalized
anxiety disorder in the summer of 2016, around two and a half years ago. My
neuropsychologist recommended that I receive therapy, but the academic year was
starting and I was heading back to Egypt, so I decided that I had no time for
it. Plus, I thought that counseling was useless and that my anxiety was no big
deal. I thought that I could cope with it on my own, and I couldn’t have been
more wrong. About one year later (summer of 2017), I saw a psychiatrist for
another problem (this is another story for another time). Although I was
seeking help for my attention deficit and not my anxiety, my psychiatrist told
me that I would have to treat my anxiety as well, as it was significantly
contributing to my inattention. Mental health is not black and white; it’s interconnected
so that different mental problems and disorders interplay, affect each other,
and lead to one another. This is why there are high rates of comorbidity (for
example, autism is often times associated with social anxiety, and depression
is frequently seen in borderline personality disorder). My anxiety and
attention deficit aggravated each other and had me trapped in a vicious circle.
The more anxious I became, the more I couldn’t concentrate; and the more I
couldn’t concentrate, the more frustrated and anxious I became. Therefore, they
both kept worsening and I was stuck in this downward spiral for a long time.
Thus my psychiatrist prescribed Strattera (atomoxetine)— a selective
norepinephrine reuptake inhibitor (SNRI), which targets both ADHD symptoms and
anxiety. Although this medication improved my ability to concentrate, it did
not alleviate my anxiety. Psychotherapy is considered a fundamental part of the
treatment for generalized anxiety disorder, and medication alone isn’t enough.
But I didn’t want therapy; I just wanted medication to help me concentrate and
didn’t care about treating the underlying problems. I didn’t take my anxiety
seriously until it slowly and subtly made its way deeper into my subconscious and
took complete control of me. My illogical anxious response to every event
became such a deep-rooted part of my mind that I didn’t even notice its
abnormality until I reached the worst of it and sat there one day, analyzing
how my thought patterns had changed over the years, realizing that something
was utterly wrong, and wondering how I could’ve possibly reached such a point.
My anxiety arrived at its peak last
year. During every situation, I automatically panicked and assumed the worst
case scenario, without thinking rationally through all the different
possibilities first. I remember every time my bedroom floor creaked, I thought that
the ground would collapse and that I would fall through and die. And even
though my floorboards creaked often and nothing like the floor splitting or me
falling ever happened, I didn’t become desensitized to it. It didn’t change my
reaction, even though I should’ve come to the realization that there was an
extremely low chance of that occurring. But anxiety knows no logic. Every
single time the floor made a sound, I still jumped to the same conclusion and
the fright still rushed through me, no less than before.
Another thing that triggered my
anxiety is my dogs barking. Everybody knows that dogs bark all the time, at
anything and everything. A cat dashing by. Someone walking along. The
neighbor’s dog. While playing. Whatever it is, they just love to bark. However,
every time my dogs did bark, again I would leap to highly unreasonable
assumptions. What if someone forgot to fill their water bowls and they’re dehydrating
and dying?! What if one of the puppies got his head stuck in the gate again and
has been trapped there for hours?! It’s all the endless “what ifs” of
generalized anxiety disorder that drive a person mad. Of course I had to go and
check on the dogs every time. Even when I did try to reason with myself and
tell myself that I was probably getting alarmed unnecessarily, the uneasiness wouldn’t
go away until I made sure that they were okay. One time back when Neo was still
a little puppy, he tried eating from Ace’s bowl so Ace bit him. Neo began
screeching, and I thought that he was dying. At first I just panicked and
screamed along with him, but when I got myself a bit together, I picked him up
and ran to my sister, shrieking at the top of my lungs, “ACE KILLED NEO! ACE
KILLED NEO!” In the end he turned out to be completely fine, not even a scratch
on him.
I can’t describe how much anxiety my
sister’s alarm tone gave me. On the weekends, whenever I heard it, and my
sister wouldn’t wake up and turn it off, I would genuinely think that she was
dead. Even though she never turns it off right away and it always keeps ringing
for a while, I still couldn’t shake off the concern until I went to her room
and confirmed that she was alive and well. Then there were plane flights. I’ve
been travelling since I was a baby, riding airplanes at least twice a year.
Since I grew up flying often, planes never scared me before. Yet for the first
time in my life, they filled me with dread. I suddenly found myself panicking
during flights, thinking that the plane might crash. This is how my life was
like, always filled with constant and excessive apprehension. I overthought
everything that occurred throughout the day and couldn’t stop worrying over the
most minor matters.
But it reached an even more severe level. Eventually, I started creating the most bizarre and unrealistic scenarios in my head based on petty, insignificant conversations that I had with people or trivial, irrelevant events that happened to me. In my mind, I would think about a certain thing over and over until I exaggerated it and invented this entire ridiculous story that I would believe was going to happen. For example, one time I thought that this person at my university was furious with me because of something that I did. It was very silly and groundless, but my anxiety made it seem like a big deal. I imagined that this person was going to confront me the next day, and I even predicted and planned the entire argument we were going to have. I thought that it was going to turn into this major drama, and we would yell at each other and cause a scene in the middle of the campus. I even prepared for a physical fight, no joke. None of it happened, of course.
But it reached an even more severe level. Eventually, I started creating the most bizarre and unrealistic scenarios in my head based on petty, insignificant conversations that I had with people or trivial, irrelevant events that happened to me. In my mind, I would think about a certain thing over and over until I exaggerated it and invented this entire ridiculous story that I would believe was going to happen. For example, one time I thought that this person at my university was furious with me because of something that I did. It was very silly and groundless, but my anxiety made it seem like a big deal. I imagined that this person was going to confront me the next day, and I even predicted and planned the entire argument we were going to have. I thought that it was going to turn into this major drama, and we would yell at each other and cause a scene in the middle of the campus. I even prepared for a physical fight, no joke. None of it happened, of course.
The most absurd scenario my brain
came up with was when I thought that my brother was angry at my sister. As
usual my mind blew it up until I perceived it as huge trouble. You’ll probably think
that I’m crazy when you read this, but this is the honest truth of what went on
inside my head. I really had gone nuts. The situation kept growing wilder in my
mind until it turned into something out of a movie. I legit thought that my
brother was planning on getting rid of my sister somehow and was most likely trying
to kill her without letting anyone find out. He was a resident doctor at the
time, so I imagined that he would get his hands on a lethal drug from the
hospital, bring it home, and inject my sister with it. I know that it sounds
insane, but I was seriously 90% convinced that it was real. It was on the verge
of turning into a psychotic delusion. The next day both my brother and sister
had the day off, but I had to go to university. I was sure that my brother was
going to make his move. I was shaking with fear the entire day and couldn’t
stop thinking about it. I thought that I would go home to find my sister dead.
I even devised a plan in case that happened. I told myself that my brother thought
that I wasn’t aware of his plot and would try to make me believe that my sister
died a natural death, but I knew the truth. I planned to go to a friend’s house
and call my parents from there and tell them everything (they weren’t in Egypt
at the time). I couldn’t do it from my phone because I thought that my brother
had tapped it for sure. When I got home after university, I could barely turn
the keys in my door from all the trembling in my hands. I was ready for the
worst. When I rushed upstairs and saw my sister, alive and perfectly normal, I
breathed the biggest sigh of relief in my life. I know that this all sounds preposterous,
and even I laugh when I think about it. But back then it was no laughing matter.
To me, it was a very grave issue.
After all that madness, that’s when
it hit me that I was losing my mind. I told myself, hold on just a minute. Stop
and think. On what basis did I conclude that my brother would kill my sister? How
and why would he ever do such a thing? I started backtracking and tracing my
thoughts all the way back to where and how they started, and that’s when I
realized that it was all in my head. That’s when I grasped that I had made it
all up and that there was no real foundation for it. It really scared me that
my mind had reached such insanity. From that day on I decided to be careful, to
monitor my thoughts, and to catch myself before I turned psychotic. I also
decided that I would get treatment as soon as I finished the semester and
summer began.
I had cognitive behavioral therapy
(CBT) sessions for generalized anxiety disorder this past summer. They helped
me significantly, and I no longer consider myself a sufferer of generalized
anxiety disorder. I won’t deny that there are still times when I feel anxious
for no good reason and times when I get crazy, irrational thoughts. But I no
longer believe them or act on them. I use the techniques that I learned in my
therapy to immediately think my way out of them. I’m improving everyday, and I
know that eventually, I’ll completely overcome my anxiety. I know that one day,
I’ll be 100% free from its terrifying clutch.
