Panic attack, who?

I'm sitting in my tub with a glass of wine, a candle burning and bubbles everywhere. I've got music going and my favorite snack next to me (chocolate Chex). But, not even 20 minutes ago I was crying so hard I needed to catch my breath and I couldn't get a word out. The entire world has been experiencing turmoil this year, and this week has only added to it. Not only is the world against a candidate, but also against one another. It is unsettling and downright stressful, and life is already that was without the weight on impending doom.

I have always experienced a certain level of anxiety. I was a worrier as a child, often scared of hurting myself or eating something bad. When I reached my teens it manifested into an actual phobia of eating and I experienced stomach aches from my anxiety (talk about a viscous cycle). Sometime during my freshman year of high school my consistent nausea subsided and I felt overall anxiety free.

But man, it came back. And it came back to stay. The first job I had out of college was at a bank. While this job wasn't anything unreasonable, it exposed me to certain types of people for the first time. Specifically, assertive people who don't care about you. The kicker is that they act like they do. My interactions, and later challenges, with these people led to facing my insecurities. I've always struggled with the need to be liked and equally with confrontation. When someone who clearly doesn't like me... confronts me? I could pee my pants. It's been over 2 years since I worked at that job and I haven't found peace yet. I put a lot of care into my relationships, so when someone doesn't give me the chance to be their friend; I take it very personally. But, like I said I'm risk-adverse and non-confrontational so I'll never know if that person actually didn't like me... and even if they're the bitch, I'll blame myself.

Fast forward to 2020. It started off pretty okay. I was dealing with some apartment challenges so my roommates and I were bouncing around rentals while our apartment was renovated (mold issue... thanks FL). Then, 3 week after we were back in our landlord sold the condo. I made the decision to move in with my boyfriend at that time and that's kind of when my anxiety began creeping back in. To be clear, living with the boyfriend brought some nerves, but the full blown anxiety was slowly piling on from other factors. I moved the first weekend of March and that Monday was when my company went remote due to COVID-19. My boyfriend was deployed at the time, so I was living alone, and instructed to stay home. This was very different for me. I had always had roommates before then and now I couldn't even see my friends. As time passed, weeks became months and my closest friends became the ones I spoke to the least. My anxieties crept in, and I blamed myself. I must've said something wrong, acted wrong, or they just never really liked me. I didn't reach out, they didn't reach out, and I went 5 months without seeing either of them. The kicker was when my grandma passed away and I wanted to call my former best friend, but didn't know how to.

Moving forward, I started feeling physical anxiety. This was something that I hadn't experienced for many years before and I was not prepared. Shit, I'm still not sure how to handle it. Let's add it up. Moving unexpectedly, moving in with my boyfriend earlier than planned, COVID, losing friends, my Grandma's passing, the election, health concerns, a newly diagnosed heart murmur, and the fear I won't see my mom for Christmas for the first time ever. I'm getting stirred up just writing it.

Some positives. Experiencing life with my boyfriend, loving my job & didn't lose it during COVID, and true friends are still there, just far away. I'm getting my health under control, going to therapy, and working through the deep down feelings I hid for a while. I adopted a dog, moved into a beautiful place, and started this blog. I'm not usually one to point out silver linings, but there are a few.

All I know right now is that sometimes I have to cry it out, sometimes I have to run it out and other times... I just have to let it pass. I get angry, sad, and scared. I throw fits, pillows, and words and it almost never helps. I panic. I talk to my body, my mind, and God and just try to separate the intrusive, invasive thoughts that anxiety causes from what's actually going on. If you're someone who has anxiety, I see you. And next time I'm wide awake at 3 am, weak from shaking yet filled with panic, you'll be in my thoughts. Because it is a fight, and we don't have to do it alone.