Generalized Anxiety Disorder - Tumblr Posts - Page 2
I had the most awful morning ever; I really thought I won't be able to go to the cardiologist to have my heart ultrasound, but I took my meds, my grandma talked to me on videochat until I got there and somehow, I managed, even though my heart was beating so fast the whole time. But it went well, there's nothing wrong with my heart! (although I'm still waiting on that 24 hour EKG results)
I came home, I cried happy tears, I drank tea, made pasta, finished the book AND the seminar paper I had to finish and even watched 3 episodes of a reality TV-show with my roommate which is a HUGE HUGE step as I couldn't even watch a YouTube video in a long time. Maybe the new meds are starting to take effect, dunno, but I'm glad I had a good day. I even laughed!! I can only repeat myself: HUGE milestone!
- Reni
Sorry for not updating in a long time. I've been feeling better in the last couple of days and I'm really glad, seems like the new meds work just wonderfully. I've been able to watch Eurovision on Saturday (Nemo is a sweetheart, but Baby Lasagna would've deserved that win, I'm absolutely in love with that man), I was on a family gathering on Sunday and today one of my teachers told me that my writing is really beautiful and clear, it made me so happy! I still have some symptoms that drive me nuts during the day, but overall I feel more capable of existing now and I can do things in an easier manner. I know 80% is thanks to the medication but I also needed to change my mindset regarding some things, so yeah, learning that now.
Don't give up, guys, it's worth fighting, I promise!
- Reni
Haven't posted in a while, I'm sorry. The truth is, I've been feeling better and I'm kind of learning how to live again and how to have trust in myself and my body. The meds are working just fine, I'm also done with the cardiology visits and my heart is very very healthy, I only have problems with my big pulse which is a result of the anxiety, but I take meds for that too, so everything is okay. I can't wait to go back to my hometown still though, unfortunately I won't be able to do that until the end of June because of university duties, but oh well, that's life I guess. I am still afraid of certain bad things happening, so the negative thoughts did not suddenly leave my mind, but I'm trying very hard to re-gain confidence, because I know deep inside that I am capable of so much more...
I can only repeat what I've said a thousand times before already: healing is a process, a wave, stop being so hard on yourself. You're doing the best you can with the resources available to you. And it will get better.
- Reni
just kidding don’t listen to me i am literally insane /j
GAD
Makko-powdered ether—
Floral-membraned leather
Etherizes my heather.
Brain filling up with lies,
Sidereal eyes
Highlight my cracked smile.
Undermine my sanity,
Earthquake my gaze;
Plagiarize the quality
My cerebrum behaves.
I keep seeing references to anxiety disorders being widely accepted and destigmatized (family members telling me "everyone has anxiety sometimes, so people are understanding of it," and online discussions about other conditions with phrases like "as opposed to destigmatized conditions like anxiety") and I genuinely want to know wtf everyone is talking about.
Explain why people laugh or get angry when someone stutters a lot or is so anxious they can't talk at all, especially in professional/academic environments.
Explain why people get freaked out and sometimes call security when someone is crying and shaking and can't explain themselves during a panic attack in public.
Explain why "too nervous to order food in a restaurant" and similar comments are always used as insults online.
Explain why so many teachers don't allow mental health days for anxiety or let students leave the classroom during panic attacks.
Explain why people get so uncomfortable around the topic of anxiety medication and antidepressants.
Explain why people are always weirded out by, if not outright hostile towards, people with psychiatric service dogs, communication cards, or other aids for their anxiety.
Explain why people with anxiety are laughed off and ignored when they try to advocate for their needs or set boundaries.
Explain why people are considered selfish if they're too anxious to verbally say "excuse me" or thank people for holding the door open.
Explain why people joke about hair loss even though it can often result from stress related to anxiety.
Explain why people act like it's a major burden to make a person with anxiety feel safe in an activity.
Anxiety may not be as stigmatized as other conditions, but that doesn't mean people aren't still ableist towards people with anxiety. They only accept it if it's hidden well enough that they don't have to look at it. And when they do have to look at it, all of their "acceptance" and "mental health matters <3" fly out the window.
The only reason you think anxiety is "widely accepted" is because your idea of anxiety is "someone who is mildly introverted and has a softish voice but is otherwise completely normal."
Trivialized isn't the same as accepted.
just submitted the paperwork to change my legal name so it's storytime, damn it: why's your user/blog name All of the Above?
warning: it's a bit sad, but it's about my time as a kid, so you knew that already.
let me tell you a story. a story of a young, mixed race, queer, disabled, afab kid with some trauma and emotional issues you could walk to the moon on. actually, i won't tell you the whole story; safety online and all that. but, i'll tell you the bits you need to know.
notice how that entire list was just attributes that are unchangeable? none of that list mentioned that the kid liked to sing, draw, write, and talk to the quiet students in class because they liked their stories and nonthreatening body language.
because that's what i was. that's what everyone made me out to be: a list of things. but they didn't expect it! they said, looking at a kid who learned to pretend to be NT, completely white, and hetcis out of a habit just to adapt to the majority of people around them.
it just became inevitable. that i would always be strange, and people would turn to the words, the indicative words, as a quick explanation for whatever they needed justification for accommodating.
so i wanted to take that for myself. say, "yes, i check every single box you have," and stare them down. because i'm more than the sum of my parts and all that.
tl;dr sometimes, something is so ubiquitous that the only way not to be driven a bit mad by it is to reclaim it. so it's ironic. i'm "all of the above" but, really, just one person.
Dipper from Gravity Falls has G.A.D (generalized anxiety disorder)
Shameless headcanon time: Ned Needlemeyer (Nightmare Ned) is highly likely to be autistic and he also has generalized anxiety disorder (GAD).
The reason I came up with this headcanon is because I strongly relate to Ned in terms of personality and struggles. To note, I’m autistic and also have been diagnosed with anxiety disorder myself.
Reasons why I think this headcanon works:
1. Difficulty with relating to other people: When I was Ned’s age (9-10 years old), and through my years of school up to and including high school, I was pretty much the same as him. I struggled with making friends in school and was bullied plenty by classmates, simply because I didn’t “fit in” with them and preferred to spend time alone. Ned has similar struggles, especially when he encounters Conrad and Vernon who constantly pick on him. (This also goes for Billy Blackbeard in the game, who would call him “melon head.”)
2. Anxiety and stress/low stress tolerance: Ned struggles with this constantly, as shown throughout the game and TV series. For example, he loses his last baby tooth and overreacts to the idea of allowing the tooth fairy to trade his tooth for a quarter. This could also be an example of being disturbed at the slightest bit of change in routine, which is also common in autistic individuals. Like I said above, he struggles with being bullied, and because of that (and other outside factors), he gets easily nervous often over small situations, sometimes to the point of being easily upset. I struggle with this at times as well, even as a young adult.
3. Constantly retreating to his own world: The nightmares he has pretty much sum this up. That’s how he deals with the stresses of the world and combats them. I also have my own little world I go to sometimes to escape reality. For Ned though, he sometimes has difficulty differentiating between fiction and reality. I’m not sure if that specifically is an autism or anxiety disorder trait, but I find it worth noting. Also worth noting that narcolepsy plays a huge role in these nightmares too, hence he has moments when he randomly falls asleep during the day in some episodes of the TV series.
This was rather hard for me to explain but I hope it’s somewhat understandable.
An amazing and inspiring post by a wonderful person. I myself was diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder and Panic Disorder at 16. I’d become someone so different than who I had been and so miserable. Going from one panic attack a month to one every two or three days indicated to me that the ‘pressure release’ they were giving me wasn’t lasting as long as it had been before. The constant interruption of my thoughts by nagging little things, the physical discomfort of feeling like a fat raccoon was sitting on my chest - it was miserable.
I was put on an anti-anxiety/depressant med but dosing was always an issue. For the next seven years I lived in various stages of anxiety, to normalcy, to overly medicated. Then I decided to “fix” the issue and stopped taking the medication.
For a period of time I felt great! What a weight lifted off my shoulders! But in hindsight things were different. I had a little nagging voice in my head, telling me how fat I’d become, how ugly my skin was, how I had too much body hair...it was as though I was suddenly having massive amounts of self doubt and self criticism in my twenties rather than my teens.
Nevertheless I pushed through and pushed through until I realized that maybe I needed to see someone again. Going “back in the system” was hard, it took me some time to find a doctor that “fit”, experimentation on what medication I responded best to and sadly a host of new diagnosis including a social anxiety developed out of that nasty little voice in my head and ultimately severe depression and dysthymia (chronic long term depression aka the tiny little negative voice in my head).
Just a handful of months ago I was referred to a new doctor, one who specializes in eating disorders, after I found myself overcome by anxiety towards food to the point where I was eating as little as 200-800 calories a day. I was diagnosed with an eating disorder known as ARFID (avoidant restrictive food intake disorder). With bi-weekly visits to my doctor I’ve slowly come to terms with the strangeness going on in my head, that I wasn’t broken nor should I guilt myself because I wasn’t coping when there were people out there in much worse situations. To put it simply, my brain doesn’t work like it should.
After years of ruling out possible medical causes it comes down to one fact, my brain chemistry isn’t balanced without help and the fact that I’ve chosen to see my doctor/therapist and take two little white pills a day doesn't make me weaker. I’m not a failure for needing the external help anymore than a diabetic is for needing insulin or an asthmatic needing an inhaler. I am me and this is how I am.
Bravo to you @theartofnotwriting for fighting the long fight to get Shangri-La (or as close as one can get). Fighting through the shroud cast by your disorder and reaching the other side and then reaching back through that fog to help others join you. Also, as a Bay Area native, I’m sorry you had such a difficult time in San Francisco. All I can say is folks can be weird out here and I can attest that there are fans of the series and of the ending (myself included). You did a very brave thing doing what you did with the ending, something unexpected and unique amongst the sea of series.
Anxiety, Meds, and Words from the Horizon. (So to Speak.)
I keep writing this post, over and over, feeling like I have to say everything. Today I’m trying to release myself from that pressure. This post will not say everything. It will just say some things.
I have this memory from Allegiant’s release week. I hadn’t been sleeping or eating much due to the stress of the new book coming out, and all that I was doing to give it a good start in the world. I had taken a glance at Twitter before my plane to San Francisco took off, and saw, for the first time, how angry and upset a lot of my readers were at the way I chose to end the series. It may strike you as unbelievable that I didn’t anticipate their reactions, but it’s true nonetheless– I did what I thought (and still think) was right for the story, and that was all.
Let me be clear: I’m okay with reactions, negative or otherwise. I am a grown woman, and a professional author, and when people disagree with me, even angrily, that’s okay with me. Readers are allowed, encouraged, to feel. To form their own opinions. To reject and despise a story. To think some books are crap and other books aren’t. To say so, in whatever GIF-y, sarcastic, exclamation point filled way they choose. On a logical level, I believe this, would fight for it if I had to. But Anxious Brain doesn’t get memos like that, doesn’t speak the language of logic. Anxious Brain just feels, feels, feels.
Some of my readers were so upset they posted death threats. (Hyperbolic or not, this is never okay. It’s the Internet, so it’s hard to know if people are joking or if they’re really going to try to hurt you.) I never thought I would upset people that much, ever, in my entire life. Anxious Brain triggered a meltdown.
My plane took off, and I was so anxious I was sobbing right there on the flight. The people next to me, thankfully, didn’t say anything. I couldn’t distract myself. I counted down the minutes until we landed, my sleeves disgustingly stained from wiping my nose.
My publicist and I went straight from the airport to the bookstore for me to sign stock before the event that night. The bookstore staff was friendly and kind, but I couldn’t be kind in return. All I could do was put on my headphones and sign books. I cried the whole time. Couldn’t stop. Some of my actual tears are in those Allegiants, San Francisco. It’s funny to me now, though it wasn’t at the time.
After I got home from that tour, I had the worst few days of my life. I was irrationally convinced– convinced– that I was going to die of some life-threatening disease or another. I don’t remember, now, which one. It doesn’t really matter. What matters is that the obsession took over my waking and my sleeping. Most of the time I felt separate from my own body. I felt a disconnected kind of terror, unrelated to anything in particular, my heart pounding and my breaths short. I felt—and not for the first time– like I was losing my sanity.
A little while after that, I went back to therapy. Clearly I wasn’t handling things as well as I wished I was.
That was the “before” picture. This is the after:
The story of how a year of therapy turned into finally trying medication isn’t really important right now. Someday I’ll tell it. I was never the kind of person who was even open to the suggestion of antidepressants– I thought that was a sign of weakness, something other people needed, not me. I was strong. I would fight it on my own.
(Right?)
I’ll never forget what my therapist said to me the day I finally raised the subject of brain chemicals to her. It was pretty simple, just, “you don’t have to fight so hard.” Meaning: you don’t have to go it alone, do it without help. You don’t have to try to be so strong.
I burst into tears. She had released me, somehow, from the obligation of working so hard just to get out of bed, and put on clothes, and interact with other people. (Most of the time I had to take a nap the second I finished my shower, because the anxiety was so exhausting. I had accepted this. I no longer realized, consciously, that it wasn’t normal for an otherwise-healthy person to do that. In case you’re wondering…it’s not.)
Antidepressants, like most medications, are not perfect. It’s not easy to “get it right.” The dosage, the prescription itself. Every brain reacts differently. Everyone has different side effects they can tolerate.
Antidepressant 1 made me into an indestructible, emotionless robot– which was fun, for awhile, for someone so used to being controlled by her emotions. But it wasn’t me, so I talked to my doctor and switched to Antidepressant 1 + Supplementary Antidepressant 2.
1 + 2 made me anxious again. Back to the beginning.
Antidepressant 3 was promising at first. I still felt emotions, but I also felt exhausted. Can’t-get-through-the-day-without-a-nap exhausted. Can’t-exercise-because-you’re-too-sleepy exhausted.
Nope. Let’s try again.
Several months into my quest for the right dosage and the right drug, I suddenly found that I was myself again. Antidepressant 4, my little miracle. I was not my anxious self, but the person I had been underneath. Neurotic, yes, because I have always been neurotic. Capable of being nervous, and sad, and angry– capable of having negative emotions, and feeling bad, and wishing my life was different. Wishing I was different.
But also– ALSO! Capable of self soothing. Capable of fighting back without draining my energy. Like a muscle that you suddenly realize is strong after you’ve been working out for a few weeks– like that first time you carry a bag of heavy groceries up a flight of stairs and realize you’re not as out of breath as you used to be. I wasn’t a robot, but I had energy. I could have a cup of tea and not feel so jittery and shaky from the caffeine that I wanted to turn back time and un-drink it. I could be kind to someone in a bookstore who recognized me and asked me for a picture– without having a panic attack!
I could be okay. Happy. Sometimes even calm.
Life is the same web of complicated and difficult emotions that it’s always been. I don’t always wake up happy and positive and ready to face the day. But I do wake up capable and hopeful.
I’d love to tell you something comforting, something soothing, something to take away your fear of medication or therapy or doctors or whatever it is that’s holding you back from doing what’s best for your brain. I can’t tell you those things, because they wouldn’t be true. It’s not easy, it’s not fun. It’s not great to break down and sob because you think you’ll never find a medication that lets you feel like yourself while still treating your anxiety. It’s not fun to drag yourself to therapy every week even though you hate the hard, but true things your therapist is telling you about the way you’re thinking and feeling. It’s not awesome to explain and re-explain how mental illness works to people who have never experienced it.
There will be days when, defeated, you dust off your old bottle of Klonipin (doctor prescribed) because even the antidepressants just aren’t enough anymore.
There will be days when, hopeless, you curl up on the couch and wonder if you will ever feel okay again, even for a couple minutes at a time.
But there is something on the horizon, a glimmer of something else, the hope of hey, I can handle this, even though it’s hard! I am standing there now, and looking back at where I’ve been, so I can tell you. I can tell you that hey, I can handle this, even though it’s hard! is worth fighting for. It’s worth that awful, terrifying call to the mental health clinic, the one you rehearse for, even the one you ask your mom to make for you. It’s worth every hour of bickering with your therapist because anxiety makes you a stubborn asshole. It’s worth every little green-or-blue pill you swallow, while under the supervision of a medical doctor, in the dim hope that you will one day feel just a tiny bit better than before.
It is worth it to try. And to try again. To take care of your brain.
I am wildly, madly, scorchingly happy to be in this place. I am so grateful for my therapist saying “you don’t have to fight so hard.” I am so proud of Past Veronica for dragging herself– sometimes thirty minutes late, because it was that hard to leave the house!– to therapy every week. For years.
If you have done even a single thing– told a friend, asked for help, called a doctor, tried a medicine– to take care of your brain, I am so proud of you, too. One little step at a time, guys.
If you haven’t done those things, if you can’t, if it’s too goddamn hard, that doesn’t mean you suck. It doesn’t mean anything other than you just can’t right now. But hear this, just in case. Just in case it’s the thing you need:
It’s worth it.
You don’t have to be so strong. You don’t have to fight so hard.
<3,
V
About Me:
Hello everyone, my name is Raley (pronounced like "raylee") and I'm a big dork, heh.
Full disclosure, I have a lot of problems, so I apologize in advance for any emotional and mental breakdowns I may have. I've been professionally diagnosed with severe and chronic depression, generalized anxiety disorder (meaning basically EVERYTHING stresses me out to the point where I can barely function, so honestly, I'm pretty worthless as a person overall. I try to make up for my lack of well, everything, by doing my best to keep you guys entertained by doing impressions and other voice stuff. But I mainly do it for myself since it's fun and cuz this world is an awful place and I need a way to cope with living :'>), and I'm on the autism spectrum. Also, I have my suspicions that I have BPD as well, but a lot of symptoms overlap so I dunno.
I identify as an asexual lesbian because I love girls, but it's been made very clear that I'm not able to maintain a relationship. I don't wanna get into the details, but just know that I've been through a lot and I'm never pursuing any crushes I may have on real people ever again as a result. Lots of trauma, blah blah.
Adding onto that, I'm extremely sex-repulsed so the idea of having any sort of act done on me makes me very uncomfortable and physically nauseous. Just writing about it makes me feel sick, heh.. In general though, like if I'm watching a movie or playing a video game, I can handle most situations fine. But when it gets to the real intense stuff like knife play, that's when I start drawing the line. So I kindly ask that you don't share things of that nature with me if you can help it
With all that out of the way, here's a list of the kind of content I enjoy most:
J-RPGs / RPGs
Visual Novels
All things Horror-related (psychological in particular is a big thing for me, heh)
Pretty much anything that has WLW / Sapphic / Lesbian connotations
If anyone's interested, here are links to my Twitch and YouTube so you can check out my past and future livestreams where I have a whole bunch of the above content and more 💚
