Posted 12/3/2011 2:40 AM (GMT 0)
Hey everyone,
I'm a new member, but I've lurked the boards every now and then and finally decided I should register. I'm currently 22 and living at home again, after living on my own for four years in Chicago. My panic attacks and anxiety started on September 24th, 2010, and it's a day that I will never forget.
I have grown a lot in the last year, and I have luckily been able to decrease my general anxiety levels and get back to some semblance of normal, for the most part. I am still afraid of being alone in stores, or waiting in lines, but I'm no longer afraid of taking showers or standing in the kitchen to cook a meal. My original anxiety started from the fear of fainting, and while that has somewhat subsided I find myself coming up with other things to be afraid of nearly constantly. I know that I am okay, that the only thing that's going to happen is that I'm just going to get really, really afraid, but it still gets the best of me sometimes, and right now I'm struggling to not be frustrated over all of it.
I've changed a lot in my life, and while I do not enjoy anxiety, the different perspective it has given me on life, the sheer amount of compassion I have gained for other people, is something that I would not trade in. I am trying to remain hopeful that I will get over this, that I will one day wake up and just not have anxiety anymore. It's been a little over a year, and while I know the progress I've made is great, I'm still not where I want to be. I can leave the house without crying now, but I can't often stand in line without feeling like I'm going to faint.
I broke down today, out of frustration, anger, and a general feeling of, "if I have to live one more day like this, just kill me now". I am not suicidal by any means, but I am awful tired of dreading every day, of feeling like a failure, and of being so afraid over little things.
This was all spurred on from a week of being ill with a chest-cold, which was havoc for my anxiety. I was positive I was dying, that any moment I'd start coughing up blood or something. The antibiotics made my stomach upset, which only lead to thoughts of "I must have some sort of stomach cancer, too, on top of this lung disease". Of course, none of that is true, and I know it's not, but sometimes I can't stop myself from getting into a tizzy over it all.
I'm still a bit on edge, still wondering if I'm going to have to live the rest of my life this way. I don't want to be in my thirties or forties or fifties and still going through this. Having anxiety is a horrible way to live life, and I wouldn't wish it on even the devil.
I suppose I'm really just looking for support, and I know that I can find it here. Through all the posts I've read everyone seems so compassionate and loving, so understanding, and I am glad to have finally registered here.
I know this was a bit long of an introductory post, but I'm sure you all know what it's like when you just gotta get out all the pent-up emotions, haha.
--Thanks,
Em