Having anxiety is one thing, but being anxious about how other people will react to my anxiety is a whole other monster.
I was about 12 years old when I had my first panic attack. I remember waking up early in the morning with an uneasy feeling, my stomach churning and my heart racing. I got up and paced around my room, going to the window to get some fresh air because I felt like I couldn’t catch my breath.
I’ve always been rather private when it comes to my mental health. In 2019 I am willing to change that. I really wish mental health wasn’t such a taboo subject and that people did not feel ashamed to speak of their struggles, because it’s not our fault. But that’s the issue with mental illnesses, they cause you to overthink and you end up thinking it is your fault. It’s not.
To describe what living with depression and anxiety is like to anyone who doesn't understand or hasn't experienced it before is to imagine a weight pulling your body down, so heavy that every day you have to summon up the strength to push against it and to lighten the impact.
I remember the first time I vocalised and admitted the fact that I was struggling with depression and anxiety. Following seven years of sporadic periods of chronic anxiety and panic attacks induced by both smoking marijuana as a teenager and my parents’ break up, I was at university, 22 and suffering a reactive bout of depression triggered by the break-up of a tumultuous relationship.
