This is the part that is actually about me telling my parents I have anxiety. See part 1 for contextual waffle.
It was in the last couple of days before I was going to be moving back to university for Term 2 (just over a month ago). I was in the back room trying to study but thinking about anxiety (as per) and my parents were watching a film in the other room. I was mulling over the prospect of telling them about it for the umpteenth time and having just about come to the conclusion that I should tell them had got on to thinking about the how. Then I looked at my phone and the grade of my first essay of the year had come through. So I checked that and it turned out I’d got a C which wasn’t like me so I started panicking about the future and my grades and job prospects etc etc… And I felt so over the edge that I wanted to finally get anxiety into the open now without any further ado. But they were happily watching their film so I didn’t, I just sat there hyperventilating and staring at my laptop screen.
Then their film finished and my dad went to bed pretty promptly so my idea seemed to be blown. Mum was in the front room packing up Christmas tree decorations and I really just had to say something, even though this wasn’t the calm let’s-all-sit-down-together-and-I’ll-explain-that-I-have-anxiety-like-a-rational-human-being scenario that I’d intended. I composed myself a bit more and we Continue reading “Being Open about Anxiety for the First Time with Parents: Pt 2”
…Technically yesterday, because I just looked at the time and it’s 1:30am.
So yeah, I didn’t really feel nervous in the build up to it. Frankly I was looking forward to the openness of being around other students at my uni with anxiety. Although I may have freaked out slightly about 10 minutes before when I wanted to just triple check the lecture theatre it was in on the uni emails and the system was glitching and not giving me access. But after going to The Base and uncomfortably asking the receptionist to double check, I got to the right place and was on time.
I put on a very collected demeanor and walked into the lecture theatre. I noticed a lot of students sitting there looking absolutely on edge. I didn’t see anyone I recognised, which was a bit disapointing. I wrote a name badge and took a questionnaire and sat down on one of the front rows. There was a girl sitting on her own there and I internally debated whether to go by the usual unspoken rule of l Continue reading “First Group CBT Thing was Today”
One thing I felt really guilty about until recently was the fact I worry so much, even though the Bible has a clear message of “Don’t worry”. I was scared of what this says about the strength of my faith. And I can’t say I’ve figured it out yet.
But when I was messaging a friend of mine who also has Anxiety recently and we were talking about this, she said something that I couldn’t believe I’d missed. When Jesus said not to worry about things, he didn’t say that as some kind of be all and end all command. He meant it more as a comforting sort of “You don’t need to worry because I’m here”.
So I can stop worrying about the fact I keep worrying, because my worry isn’t exactly disobedience. By all means, it’s something I need to work on, but it’s not something I have to feel guilty about any more; that’s certainly not how God would want me to feel about it.
I figured I might as well use this to log my experience with the medication I’ve been taking for anxiety.
This first week hasn’t been so hot for me, but I already knew that antidepressants can make it feel worse before it gets better.
- I have had points where I’ve felt extremely anxious, on a new level than what I am used to. Most of this anxiety is not actually social anxiety but general worries about the future and worries about academic work which leads me on to the next one…
- My creativity has gone to pot and I am finding it extremely hard to write essays which are due after Christmas. The first night I had this was while I was experiencing a near hysterical level of anxiety about the future, so I couldn’t tell if the fact I was suddenly finding the act of stringing a sentence together a mammoth task was because of the anxiety or the medication. It might have been a mix of both but I guess you can’t re Continue reading “Week 1 on Fluoxetine”