I suffered with debilitating anxiety for many years. For the first few years (it really set in at 15 years old), I received a diagnosis of asthma – which I never had. I was actually having panic attacks, frequent panic attacks, not asthma attacks. On more than one occasion, I was rushed to hospital by ambulance for a “severe asthma attack”, which in reality, was always a panic attack. I had a shoe box full of various types of inhalers, because “clearly, this asthma is not under control, let’s try this other puffer…”.
Fast forward 10 years, (and a decade of living unknowingly, then silently with anxiety, with terrible beliefs about myself despite all evidence to the contrary, and destructive behaviours that match the terrible beliefs), there I am, 25 years old, in the middle of my Ph.D. studies, where all is objectively going well. Academically, my research is progressing, I have been awarded an NSERC scholarship, which means I can focus on my research without the need for a part-time job, I am consistently being awarded sessional lecturing positions, I have a thesis supervisor whose personality and outlook I really enjoy …things are good! Socially, I am surrounded by like-minded friends, I am president of my department’s graduate student association, and nearly every event I organize is a success. I’m known for my outgoing personality and my attempts at ensuring all students feel included and comfortable.
Boom! The anxiety reaches new heights. I can barely (if at all, let’s be honest) leave my house, I cannot finish my semester of teaching and need to be replaced. I cry so frequently, uncontrollably, and at such random times I scare myself. I am terrified of life, and I am convinced with absolute certainty that there is no way out of this downward spiral. So I take a forced month off…forced in that I feel completely out of control and cannot predict the next minute’s mental state.
After Christmas break, I decide to brave the world and resume life. A few days after my return to “normal life”, I have an epic, random meltdown at my lab. Thankfully, a wonderful friend who is fully aware of my current state is working in an office down the hall. I walk myself over to his office and he just about immediately walks me over to the campus clinic. After an afternoon of calming down with the assistance of the wonderful nurses on staff, I am able to make my way home. On the walk back, the decision is made to seek professional help – because clearly, this has become bigger than me. (In retrospect, sadly, I realize I waited that long to get the help I needed because I had a subconscious belief that I did not deserve the help, one of many false beliefs I held about myself. I literally waited until I could no longer function to seek help.)
What happened during those therapy sessions felt like nothing short of a miracle to me. I had spent my entire adult life THINKING and ANALYSING, therefore DOING instead of BEING. I learned to befriend my feelings, and to simply look at them instead of running from them. I didn’t need to FIND answers, I just needed to sink down into my own self, and there it all was, the cause of years of debilitating anxiety, just waiting to be released, to be freed, one piece at a time. The more I looked in, the more I saw that the answers we seek are always there, underneath the rubble of false, outdated beliefs, trying to protect us, but by the very same token limiting us.
Mental wellness really, truly is an inside job. We are often our own worst enemy, and don’t even know it. We talk to ourselves in ways we wouldn’t talk to anyone else, not even the people we consider enemies!
The moment your relationship with yourself changes, your relationship with life, and the entire world changes as well. And you deserve that. It is your birthright.
コメント