Personal Narrative: Living With Anxiety

One of the most common mental health disorders, anxiety, has had an astronomic affect on human beings, influencing the entirety of an individual on a bio-psycho-social level. Globally, anxiety is the catalyst for the execution of specific significant political and military actions. Although, anxiety can propel one forward, excessive anxiety is debilitating and the effects are cataclysmic. Experiencing the crippling effects of anxiety firsthand has manifested to me the power and dominion anxiety can have over one's life. With the help of cognitive behavioral therapist I found the inner strength to cope and abate my own anxiety levels. My experience has not only stimulated my interest in the field of clinical social work but has also shown me the major

This is my life everyday, there is no stop or pause button. Anxiety is a battle with myself to try and find the sanity in this parallel world I now live in. Everything from going to lunch, going out with friends, walking in the hall, and talking to adults are all daily tasks that provoke this voice. However the worst part is when no one believes you. I knew something was wrong, yet I was put down and told I was just anxious. I didn’t even know what I was feeling, and now I was alone. The people I loved the most brushed it past like it was nothing, leaving me confused and afraid.

On our way up the stairs to our unit, a girl named Jada came up behind me. “So why are you here?” I was thrown off by the personal question she asked so casually. Only an hour prior I had arrived at the facility and was introduced to the other eleven teenagers.

Anxiety is a common occurrence and emotion in everyday life. Yet there are several individuals today who suffer from great pangs of anxiety and feelings of panic at such extremely high levels that it becomes quite debilitating. A normal, everyday environment can become so overwhelming that the day itself can stop dead in its tracks while the sufferer rides through the wave of intense emotions and thoughts which seem to be going a million miles a minute and showing no signs of stopping or slowing down.

This feeling was unusual because as a youngster, I spent most of my childhood going on acting auditions and

When I first came to America, I was bullied because I was different, and judged of every action so I could be mocked by the way I behaved. I used to have no problems asking where the bathroom is, and I didn’t care about my accent or grammar as long as I got the message across. But years growing up in a tiny Southern town, unaware of the existence of the Asian race, molded me into a different person. I was, and still, fearsome of social situations, as little as asking someone in class for a pencil. I could never ask for help because I was afraid what will happen during the process, or after. In my head, I’d imagine instances where my voice could crack while asking, the class could go silent focusing their attention onto me, or worse, finally having the courage to ask, but it turns out the person I asked had rejected my request. This personality of mine is so painful at times, I considered it as a disorder. I was always stuck in between this thick social barrier; I couldn’t approach anyone, always the one waiting to be approached. But, unlike the silent students who are great scholars, I was never a great student myself, and I suffered immensely. When it was time for group projects, I was always the fatboy in PE, having the teacher assign me to a random group. I’ve been trying to overcome this social anxiety by forcing myself to talk to new people,

All my life, I have suffered from generalized anxiety disorder, which can make it difficult to do mundane tasks and educational requirements. For example, giving speeches, taking exams and quizzes, and having to communicate with other students that I do not know. I have been sheltered most of my life, which causes things that would be considered basic to other people to scare me. After analyzing my anxious tendencies, I came to the conclusion that the root of my anxiety comes from having seperation anxiety from my Mother after my Father passed away, which made me scared to talk to people, resulting in speech anxiety. My main fear with my speech anxiety is that I will receive a bad grade on my speech or not do well enough academically. I strive

Although there is a plethora of mental illnesses such as depression, anxiety, and alcoholism that run rampant in my family; I never spoke about mental illness with either of my parents until I was diagnosed with social anxiety, OCD, and panic disorder at 18. At that age I wasn’t even aware that anxiety was more than just feeling nervous or that it was a treatable diagnosis. After describing the symptoms of what I now know to be a panic attack to my general doctor, she referred me to a psychiatrist who prescribed me three pills, two were for anxiety, and one which was for my panic attacks.

When I was about twelve, I self diagnosed myself with anxiety. I was at a river in Austin with my mom and my two aunts. At that age, I was insecure about everything that had to do with my body. “Come on, get in!” I heard my over enthusiastic aunt yell from the dirty, brown water. I wanted to get in, but my mind was telling me, “Everyone is going to think your body is ugly”, and “Don’t get in, just sit and wait for them to come back”, so that’s what I did.

What will it take for them to realize what truly goes on inside our brains. Sticking out like a sore thumb or a lost shoe in the center of the highway. Anxiety is like not being able to breathe even being outside. I wish I could somehow explain the science behind how they make me feel. I got my first dose of anti-depressants when I was twelve years old. An artificial happiness that “worked”. The drugs never worked. But doesn’t mean a goddamn thing about being depressed! Sometimes the medications didn’t work because I was already happy, but people have to dig deeper to find out what the problem is. When someone takes their own life, how are we supposed to react? Are we supposed to think it’s just sad? Taking your own life is an ugly side of

It was the day of the surgery, I was so nervous that I could have passed out at any moment from my anxiety. I felt sicker then I had in years, I would have thrown up if I had had any food to eat in the past twenty-four hours. When me and my family got to the hospital my anxiety went up another level and I was practically shaking, the smell of all the chemicals they use wasn’t helping my nausea any either. When I was in the room getting ready for surgery I was overwhelmed with what was about to happen so I ended up confiding in my mom that

¨ Good Good... my mom and I went to the museum and went shark watching.¨

My power would be a poetic one. Me embracing one of mankind’s most dangerous, prolific and effective enemies, one that plagued humanity for centuries: Anxiety. I would the power to at will induce extreme amounts of anxiety onto anybody in my line of sight.

Doubt. Worry. Anxiety. Tears. Most of my high school career revolved around these feelings. Feelings of emptiness. Feelings of hopelessness. Often, feelings are inaccurate; they are just lies that we believe about ourselves. Many feelings that we feel are not the truth that God tells us; they are simply lies Satan wants us to believe. God tells us that He is always with us. He loves us. He has the best plan for us. However, remembering these truths, in the midst of such struggles, is hard.