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Author Topic: Personal Stories of Anxiety Disorder  (Read 125792 times)

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Offline Aaron Davis

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Re: Personal Stories of Anxiety Disorder
« Reply #600 on: April 25, 2014, 11:23:52 AM »
I like that ^
Very insightful and inspiring. Thank you!
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Offline alex123

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Re: Personal Stories of Anxiety Disorder
« Reply #601 on: May 05, 2014, 07:36:41 PM »
Hi. My name is Alexis, but I often go by Alex. I just turned thirteen a few days ago and was looking forward to joining this site.

I not only have Anxiety Disorder, but I also have a Mood Disorder.

It all started when I was just eight years old. My biological father remarried and decided that he would cut off all contact and move three hours away. No matter how hard I tried: making phone calls with the help of my mother, writing letters in my messy third grade hand writing, and later attempting to find him on the internet, he didn't seem to want any memory of me. This brought on my depression, and being bullied by my classmates did not help.

I'm fairly overweight, and many of my elementary friends used that against me. I often came home in tears. My mom went up to the school a few times, but I come from a sucky school district and they didn't do anything, saying there was no evidence.

I resorted to violence to start my issues. Whenever anyone said anything to me, I retorted with harsher words and a few times, I would shove or hit at my peers.

Once, in the fifth grade, I recieved a death threat from a girl and my mother showed that to the school district and they finally did something about it.

It stopped after the fifth grade, but started again in seventh.

This was when I developed anxiety. This was when I began cutting and burning.

My so called 'friends' at the time would become silent when I walked upto them to join the conversation.

another so called 'friend' told me that girls were talking about me behind my back.

I began to get extremely paranoid that wherever I went, people were talking about me behind my back.

Whenever someone just glanced at me, in my mind, they had called me a name or said something. I started to loose contact from friends and went into isolation.

The pain of lonliness and paranoia was getting to me and I began to burn using lighters and I would sometimes finger the stove when I knew it was hot. I started cutting with razors.

My mom saw burns once and threatened to send me to a shrink, so I made sure to be extra careful to hide them.

I began writing poetry about dark things, mostly death and murder. It helped.

Sometime in November was when I got my first flow of suicidal thoughts. I was doing the dishes and my eye caught on pills. I wondered what it would be like if I swallowed the whole bottle and ended it all. If people around me would be better off. If I would be happier in death. this happened multiple times.

Soon after the suicidal thoughts came more anxiety. I began to analyze my day. Every word ever said to me. I became paranoid that even my teachers were talking about me.

I started to think about it too much, though, and brought on panic attacks. This happened a few times.

I eventually told my parents though, and on December Eighteenth, 2013, I started on Zoloft, an anti-depressent and anti-anxiety medication. A day later I saw a councelor for the first time. Her name is Ellen.

But Lately I've been having a dillema:

I told my doctor and my parents that the Zoloft was helping. And I really thought it was. I had no more panic attacks. The anxiety lessened and I began to become a little more social. The emptyness and loneliness began to go away.

And then three months after I started taking it, it stopped helping. I noticed it slowly stop helping.

Now I'm back to the way I was in social situations. I'm not getting panic attacks, thank god, but still. I'm forcing myself not to cut, but that empty feeling is still coming back.

I don't know what to do.
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Offline jlee0243

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Re: Personal Stories of Anxiety Disorder
« Reply #602 on: May 06, 2014, 06:58:00 PM »
All,

I am posting this as a sticky post here so that everyone has a place to tell their story about their anxiety disorder, how it came to be, and what they are doing to solve their issues.  I think it would be valuable to have a place to open up rather than randomly on the board which eventually scrolls away from existence.

I'll start:

During my college years I smoked a lot of marijuana...  Big mistake!  The intrusive thoughts started my second semester after pledging a fraternity and being hazed for eight weeks and doing sub-par that semester in my studies.  I was also stressed out about a relationship that was in its 5th year yet I wasn't ready to commit and I also felt trapped because I didn't want to break the girls heart.  The intrusive thoughts were mainly of things that would cause me great fear and anxiety such as "being gay", "being a murder", and the more I'd try to get rid of the thought the more it would bother me.  This gradually got worse for about 3 years until just after graduation when I was smoking with some friends and I had a horrible thought while under the influence that scared me into my first major panic attack.  From that point the panic attacks became regular and I ended up becoming agoraphobic.  Finally I was admitted into a mental health clinic and diagnosed with some sort of anxiety disorder and sent home on Remeron which made me very sick.  It actually increased my anxiety so I went back to the doctor within a couple weeks to find another drug that may help.  I went through Paxil, Zoloft, Wellbutrin, Buspar, Zyprexa, even Xanax in conjunction with the Zyprexa.  Nothing seemed to help at all and I ended up cryin' on the couch feeling so low and desperate that I think I had actually had no where to go but up. 

It was the middle of the night and I went for a walk and tried to straighten out everything that was going on in my head and by the time I got back I had made the decision to throw away all the meds and start doing some real research on anxiety disorder.  I read every book I could find on my disorder which I later found out was Pure O a type of OCD that causes intrusive thoughts with no compulsions.  I started to meditate and drink Kava Kava tea which helped me to relax before bed and in the morning.  I gradually became able to leave the house and shortly therafter returned to work.  I still felt horrible and had intrusive thoughts often, but I would always play with them in my head by changing them into funny scenes.  For instance a once had a bad thought while talking to my boss who I respected a great deal that I was going to stab him with a pen.  This of course scared the living daylights out of me, so I forced myself to think about it over and over until the anxiety stopped.  This of course was scary because now I wasn't scared of the thought of stabbing someone which gave me anxiety, but I had beaten the thought and never had that particular one again.  I continued to attack each thought and continued to meditate daily and after about a year of practice I had all of the thoughts under control and went into a 5 year remission. 

Turns out that the same thing had happened when I was in the second grade.  I vaguely remember the thoughts other than that my parents would be taken away from me while I was at school.  I remember the stomach pain from the anxiety and went home often as a result of panic attacks.  I had completely forgotten this episode in my life.  My parents knew something was wrong, but not what it was.  I managed to come to the same conclusion naturally when I was younger as well and was in remission until the above experience.

When I say remission, I mean I was able to live my life completely with very minor anxiety every so often and an intrusive thought every once and awhile which I could quickly dismiss.  Anyway, this all came to an end when I got married and especially got bad when I had my first child.  The thoughts were pretty much under control, but the anxiety and panic reached unimaginable heights and were really affecting my ability to enjoy my new child and wife.  This is when I decided that maybe medication would help me, but this time I was going to take it slow and keep track of everything that happened while on the meds.  I was very scared, but set up an appointment with an anxiety disorder specialist in the area.  He happened to be a professor at the local university and started his own practice specifically for anxiety disorder and had treated literally thousands of patients.  I felt comfortable with this doctor which made the idea of taking meds relatively easy.  I told the doctor everything I just stated here and he basically said that I simply had anxiety disorder with some OCD tendencies and that I should take Xanax to eliminate the anxiety.  I already at this point had researched all the potential meds and knew that Xanax had a history of causing dependency.  He said, "if you had diabetes, would you be reluctant to take your insulin shots?"  I of course said "no" and he explained that most anxiety disorders are long term problems that have a genetic root which I already knew because anxiety disorder was all over my mothers side of the family.  I asked him if I would ever be off medication and he said that I could if I wanted to, but there was a very good chance that I would end up having anxiety issues again later in life.  Maybe not immediately, but at some point.

In conclusion, for the last 10 months I have been taking Xanax and it has helped a great amount with my anxiety and has allowed me to take my life back.  I have written in a journal every day since the beginning of taking meds so that I could quantify how well the medication was working.  I don't fight with the anxiety anymore.  I continue to meditate daily to exercise my mind.  I exercise physically and eat well avoiding caffeine and most all other recreational drugs.  I will have a beer or two on occasion, but it is rare.  Anyway, the intrusive thoughts have not been a problem for me in almost 7 years, and the anxiety is now at a controllable level.

I now have two children and with this new addition to our family I have not had any issues with the anxiety even though it is a very stressful time.  She had health complications and caught a virus in the first few weeks of her life which caused us great fear and anxiety, but the anxiety I had was all rational and appropriate for the situation.  For the first time I feel like I have control of my life and don't have to worry about a random panic attack during stressful time.  There are times I had to get really clever and talk my way out of a presentation or something at work so that I could go home due to a random panic attack.  That doesn't happen anymore.  I am an aerospace engineer with a lovely wife and two beautiful daughters!  Life is good!

Thanks for letting me share this intimate portrait of my life.  I hope others will share their stories in this thread as well. 

Take care,
OE

Thanks for sharing that. It is good to hear the hope of your story. I go through periods of feeling so trapped and scared that it is good to hear your story. I feel a little more hope than I did before I read it. Now once I figure out how to operate this site I will be  A OK! ;) thanks again
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Offline LeslieSalt

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Re: Personal Stories of Anxiety Disorder
« Reply #603 on: May 09, 2014, 03:16:34 AM »
Hello, I just signed up here. I'm an Agoraphobic of 40 years.

I have plenty of horror stories that I won't burden you with now.

I'm recently retired on a medical disability, but I tried to work, and not be dependent on anyone. I tried to have a career. I wasn't always successful at that.

My family is horribly dysfunctional, and needless to say, it adversely affected me.

My parents are gone, but my siblings are still with us, and my relationship with them is strained.

I've had 3 heart attacks. The second, according to my doctors, should have killed me, but didn't. It did kill a 42 year smoking habit though. Been 5 years without a puff.

I had a serious back operation at the end of 2012, and as a result, I use both a walker and a cane.

I've never been married or had children. Why put others through this?

I just went through some horror stories in trying to move on very short notice. Maybe another post, but not here at this time.

I find it a total miracle that I haven't gone totally stark raving mad with some of the people I've had to cope with.

I've been lucky with some of the great friends I've been blessed with. The coin does have another side to it.

I look forward to reading and getting to know other people here.
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Offline lebron34

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Re: Personal Stories of Anxiety Disorder
« Reply #604 on: May 11, 2014, 07:30:30 PM »
I have always been a nervous person with anxiety, but it's gotten progressively worse over the last 6 months. I am a hypochondriac, and my biggest fear is naegleria fowleri, the brain eating amoeba. I'm always convinced I have gotten it somehow either from water showering or even when sweeping sand in my driveway or raking. Despite constant help from my mom and my girlfriend, I always think I have it. However, I've started to see a therapist and things are slowly getting better!
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Offline momangel29

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Re: Personal Stories of Anxiety Disorder
« Reply #605 on: May 12, 2014, 11:35:30 AM »
         I am forty three now but when I was ten years old I was put into a private school where there was pressure to get good grades. The school was competitive and I wanted to do well so I put more pressure on myself, not my parents really. I started panicking when I knew it was a test day, running fevers even the night before. My parents took me to the doctor but the pediatrician said it was impossible that I made myself sick and they didn't do anything. I would also get sick at holiday time. As I got older I would have insomnia for weeks at a time and my parents would give me cough medicine and brandy to go to sleep.
       When I was twenty six I was diagnosed bipolar. I take medication but I am mostly a depressed person. My anxiety was not really addressed until three years ago when my father died. A few months later I started having panic attacks and was afraid to be alone. At that time I did not want to stay home. My companion during the day was my dog who is still a very important part of my life. I do have have a husband and one school age child still at home but the dog has been there for me. Now I feel that my anxiety has changed somewhat. I don't want to be out anymore. I want to be at home. I was laid off last year and at times I do agency work but its not steady. Right now I just live from day to day. I take a mood stabilizer and the dr. just tried to put me on lexapro but the side effects are worse that what I currently feel so I will just stick with what I already take and ride it out. My husband has decided to focus on nutrition and my daughter and I are following him trying to eat more fruits and vegetables. We will see how that goes.
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Offline overthinker93

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Re: Personal Stories of Anxiety Disorder
« Reply #606 on: May 13, 2014, 03:14:17 AM »
Hey all im new here my names Luke im from Melbourne Australia , I have been suffering with anxiety my whole life it started off with just hypochondria being paranoid of anything health wise but as I got older I started getting panic attacks especially in public so I stopped going out stayed home most of the time feeling crap and thinking weird thoughts like at the moment I have always had a fear of passing out so now I have ocd thoughts on things that make me sick and it scares me cause I always feel like im just going to faint because of these thoughts its just another mind game my mind plays on me I really need help im 21 and I am not living my life at all.......
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Offline purpleteacher_13

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Re: Personal Stories of Anxiety Disorder
« Reply #607 on: May 17, 2014, 04:40:56 PM »
Hello. First day here. I’ve composed this in my mind all morning and I hesitate to post because I fear that the reaction will be, “Ohh….she’s a hot mess.” But….I will post this in hopes that some in this community feels like I do and I can get some help.  I’ve read several posts from different anxieties and can relate.  I plan to be brutally honest.   
I’m a teacher (or was).  My family has said that I always had anxiety.  Storms, “what if?”scenarios, life in general, etc.  When I went in to a therapist in my 30’s telling what I thought were funny family stories she said, “No wonder you are afraid of life.”  My true anxiety started when my husband had an affair. My first panic attack sent me from school to the ER.  Thought I was having a heart attack. I knew something was going on, but he would never admit it.  I worked in the same school district as both of them and was hearing some rumors.  We went through some “Cops” episode type things, divorced, and then remarried.  The judge told my lawyer that he didn’t want to grant the divorce…. we still seemed in love. 
After that I continued to have panic attacks.  In my school district two years ago they made several teacher moves.  Despite my 20 years of service I was moved to a position that was a worst fear of mine.  15 years in the same elementary, people I called family, and I was moved to the high school special education vocational training program.  Basically I took cognitive impaired adults to a local grocery store and convalescent home to train.  I tutored in the afternoon for the Resource Room.  No lesson planning, just supervising.  Don’t get me wrong, it is a very valid program and I did the job to the best of my ability. I just ended up being a dumping ground for these students in my district.  I felt like I had been demoted.  One day, driving in to work, I started to feel a panic attack.  By the time I got there it was massive.  I found some colleagues and eventually they called my parents.  I just couldn’t tell my husband that, yet again, I was leaving school with a panic attack.  My dad walked me out of the high school that morning, holding my hand, in front of unloading busses of students I taught to take me to the ER…..again.  I went on an extended medical leave and eventually quit a very good job. 
Since that day my parents and husband have had me see doctors, psychiatrists, psychologists, and therapists. They have been trying to “fix” me.  I’ve been on anti-depressants and anti-anxiety meds.  They don’t work well with my body and I find I can’t be functional enough for my teenage son on them, so I stopped.  Now I self-medicate with alcohol.  I was eventually diagnosed with PTSD.  I struggle to get out of the house some days.  I talk myself into going to the grocery store and getting through a shower.  I can’t make it to the doctor.  I manage because of my son, but I don’t want to live like this anymore. 
I am joining this community because it helps to hear that others are like me and I hope to learn some strategies to overcome this.  I want to be the woman I was years ago….confident, outgoing.
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Offline flyaway

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Re: Personal Stories of Anxiety Disorder
« Reply #608 on: May 18, 2014, 08:52:14 AM »
I have dealt with anxiety and depression for over half my life now and I've had enough.

Growing up I was a pretty confident kid, however that changed thanks to the 'mean girls'.  My self esteem was shot down at an early age and this has stuck with me.  I feel pretty damn ugly most of the time and an emotionally abusive boyfriend and a few broken hearts have done nothing to make it better.

When I look in the mirror I often see someone who is disfigured so I worry about my appearance a lot.  It's odd how other's looks aren't important to me, however when it comes to me, my appearance = my value as a human being.

As a teenager, I dealt with more depression than anxiety, I would isolate myself, as well as self harm. I was terribly underweight (but thought I was obese) and struggled to deal with the pressures of school and family.  My family life was quite dysfunctional and has left a lasting impression on me.

I struggle forming close relationships, so I become pretty attached to people that manage to sneak their way past my defences.  Not many people make it through, but they do.  I've lost some people who have become very important to me, and it kills me.  I do think I am a lot more sensitive than other people, so hurting others, or being hurt by others, really hurts me, and it is very hard to recover from.

My anxiety took over when I was around 22 years old. I remember my first true blue panic attack, I thought I was going to die.  I had never felt something so overwhelming before.  My anxiety tends to come in waves, I will go for a period of time feeling amazing, then I will be struck down with terrible anxiety which will last a few weeks.  The anxiety is suffocating and it is hard to focus on anything else.

I have been on medication pretty much consistently since that point, however I am almost completely off Paxil.

The last few months have been really difficult and there has been a lot of change.  I am feeling quite isolated and lonely at this time.  I feel I've taken a bit of an emotional beating, and feel as though I am grieving.  It's really hard to stay positive, but I am trying to look to my future.  Up until recently I felt quite confident as to the path my life would take, but it's kinda been completely obliterated.  I tell myself it is a good thing - the whole world is open to me - however I haven't quite convinced myself of that yet. I'm getting there.
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Offline NikkiHooves

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Re: Personal Stories of Anxiety Disorder
« Reply #609 on: May 18, 2014, 12:24:04 PM »
I guess I can trace my anxiety and panic to when I was a kid. I was always worried about dying, I knew that I had something horrible that would kill me. Being a kid I didn't really understand death so I usually just went about my business. Things got really bad and I mean BAD around this past october. I broke my finger and was given vicoprofen for it. I had 12 and I took them over the course of 6 days like I was supposed to. But on the sixth day I got a horrible chest pain and it freaked me out. I physically felt pain and at the time I didn't understand a panic attack will actually make you feel physical pain.  I went to the hospital and nothing was wrong. My mother told me I was ridiculous. The pain never went away, I figured it was heart disease or something. I knew I was going to die. Everyday I faced the angel of death, I couldn't relax.  This went on until around thanksgiving when it peaked. I was in the car with my mother and my hands started to tingle then my face started to tingle. My heart raced,  I knew I was about to die. But it passed. Two days later I went to my doctor and he put me on prozac. I'm not even close to better, I'm 19 and everyday I face death. I found this forum by googling for other peoples stories because I was having an attack with palpatations and all. Its truly terrifying to think thatevery day is my last, but I'm not alone.
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Offline xogemxo

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Re: Personal Stories of Anxiety Disorder
« Reply #610 on: May 19, 2014, 11:06:52 AM »
Hi am 24 from Ireland. My anxiety started just after my second baby was born I could not go any where without thinking I was going to die, every ache and pain it was something serious I've recently been getting migraine and seeing floaters, feelin week and all this has led me to think it's something serious! I get out and it's always on my mind! Hate being like this any one n e suggestions how to get over postnatal anxiety lol I've tried cbt and it worked but now it's finished its back again xxx
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Offline xogemxo

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Re: Personal Stories of Anxiety Disorder
« Reply #611 on: May 19, 2014, 11:11:28 AM »
Hi am 24 from Ireland. My anxiety started just after my second baby was born I could not go any where without thinking I was going to die, every ache and pain it was something serious I've recently been getting migraine and seeing floaters, feelin week and all this has led me to think it's something serious! I get out and it's always on my mind! Hate being like this any one n e suggestions how to get over postnatal anxiety lol I've tried cbt and it worked but now it's finished its back again xxx
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Offline HalfMoonRun

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Re: Personal Stories of Anxiety Disorder
« Reply #612 on: May 20, 2014, 10:29:06 AM »
During my freshman year of college, I developed anorexia due to the enormous change I was going through. Not having the comforts of school and my friends that I had known all my life, I felt extremely lost and alone. This and the fear I kept hearing about (the Freshman 15) lead me to try and control my food intake. Since I felt like I had lost my identity in this new frightening place full of strangers, I felt like my outward appearance was the only thing I had to make people like me. So I obsessed over it and got to a very frightening weight before my dad stepped in and tried to get me help. Unfortunately, I did not know how to come back from such a low food intake, and I had forgotten how to "eat normally". So I started binging on food to fill the new void that learning I had an eating disorder gave me. Binging until I was so uncomfortable to even move started to become unbearable so I started throwing up my food. The extreme binge/purge cycle continued for 3 years and even caused to me to drop out of college and become pretty much a recluse. I think I went a whole year without going anywhere in public due to the shame and disgust I felt for myself.

I tried to stop it every single day and saw a therapist. Every day I thought I was going to stop throwing up, but every day I failed. In 2006 I thought I had gotten it to a manageable level, where I was able to function somewhat normally in public, but still binge/purge behind closed doors. I enrolled in college again and had a mostly successful semester, until the very end in May when I felt "kinda funny" on my way to my history final. It was the kind of funny that you know is something wrong, not pain, no other symptoms other than that sort of nauseated weakness that just tells you you need to stop what you're doing and lay down. So I told my professor I had to go home, I drove home and went upstairs to lay down. I felt the need to use the bathroom and was kind of alarmed to notice coffee ground-like stuff in the toilet (sorry if TMI!). I felt too out of it to care that much, and I just wanted to get to bed. On my way to my bedroom, I passed out. I don't know how long I was down, but when I woke I had a bump on the head and my cat was sniffing at my face.

Alarmed since I had never passed out before, I called my uncle and he took me to the ER. The doctor informed me that I had blood in my stomach and they had to find out what was bleeding inside me right away. So they shoved a tube down my nose into my stomach (OUCH!!! MY GOD) and started to suck the blood out that way. I was put to sleep so they could put a tiny camera down my throat and look around. They found a small tear in my esophagus, which was the source of the blood...due of course to the constant violent purging I put my body through. There was little they could do except just let it heal on its own, which they told me the body will do, so the tube was removed from my nose and I had to have a blood transfusion. Scary stuff. The second night in the hospital, I felt really "funny" again and called for the nurse. Turns out I was bleeding internally again, but this time the severity was so much that my blood pressure was dangerously low and I was pretty much flat lining. I actually remember hearing them call my dad to tell him that he should come see me, like they do when someone is about to die, and all I could think was "This is what is going to kill me. I am going to die at 22 from something I did to MYSELF."

So as all the nurses and doctor were gathered around me, frantic, doing stuff I was totally unaware of, I had to throw up again. This time I threw up what seemed like gallons of blood. Irony...throwing up all of that blood, which was poisoning me, probably saved my life. After that, I don't remember much. I think I blacked out or fell asleep because I was blissfully unaware of anything for at least 24 hours. Sleeping like a baby in the hospital is pretty much the best thing you can do. When I was conscious again I found out I was having another blood transfusion. After another few days of being stable in the hospital, I was discharged, forever changed.

I never threw up my food again. I am very proud of that. Because even a near death experience cannot cure an addiction. The urge came back again and again, but I wouldn't allow it. I still binged almost everyday, but I forced myself to just LIVE with it. No purging. I had to just be uncomfortably full. That went on for a while until I started to learn how to eat again. Little did I know the entire time I had my binging/purging to rely on, that it was my way of relieving stress. Without it, I had NO idea how to handle all the stress that had been building up, that I didn't even know about. That was when I had my first panic attack.

Every little feeling in my body made me relive it all over again. I was "bleeding internally" all the time. I was put on Wellbutrin, which actually did work for me. I went through Valium and Ativan before settling on Klonopin for my anxiety. It helped curb the panic attacks. I thought benzos were a godsend pretty much. I could function in society again! So...here I am, 7 years later, and my anxiety is worse than ever. I had some major life changes last year, like breaking up with my long time boyfriend of 7 years, and moving out of my house. I also lost my job...LOL. I have been trying to taper off the Klonopin for the past few months, with the encouragement of my current boyfriend. Probably pretty bad timing, but I don't want to be a slave to benzos for the rest of my life.

But my body has not been cooperating with my best intentions. I have all kinds of physical symptoms, most of which I think are related to MS. And I have been reading this site for a few weeks every time I get a new symptom. What caused me to register today is an involuntary thumb movement I woke up to this morning. So here I am. Glad to be here.
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Offline quinnyhendrix

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Re: Personal Stories of Anxiety Disorder
« Reply #613 on: May 23, 2014, 01:54:53 AM »
Hey everyone,

I just joined and am very thankful to have found this.  My name is Quinn I'm 23 and I'm from Atlanta, Georgia

I've been dealing with anxiety since I was about 5 or 6 years old. For most of my life it has been fairly manageable with the help of (SSRI'S) until I turned 20 when I started

having Pure-O anxiety.  All of you understand how difficult any anxiety disorder can be especially when your friends and family members don't quite

understand what you are going through.   

I can trace my anxiety back to when I started school.  I turned 5 in june and started school in august so for the most part I can attribute those days

on how I developed this "Dark Passenger" being unprepared and under-developed emotionally from being separated from my mother.  I don't blame
 
her for any of this nor do I blame anyone.   When my Pure-O started I forget the exact details that had brought me to it but what I remember is that

I was petrified of hurting my loved ones.  I was worried that I may be a psychopath that the "BEAST" in me had awaken and that I would soon change.

The word "kill" repeating itself in my head over and over.  Horrific images that planted themselves right in front of me.  For 2 weeks I felt this until

I realized that I was in control of my very thoughts,  That all this was just in my head.   It's been about 2 years and the same ideas and thoughts

have returned stronger it feels like.   My thoughts this time of being afraid of becoming Schizophrenic, Thinking that I am hearing voices, question

my own reality having a moderate case of derealisation/depersonalization, fear of losing all rationality, my happiness, the enjoyment of my loved ones.

Thinking that every second may be my last before I "Change." In reality though every obsessive thought just leads to another one. Browsing the internet looking for peace of mind, a phrase, a sentence, something that will ease me back into me. I feel as though I am truly going insane adding only to my fears.  Obviously, I know that I am not crazy but that its just my OCD.   

It's been a struggle just get out of bed and actually live.  Everyday is a challenge and every day is a step forward. 

I am glad that there is a forum such as this were we can share our experiences and fears and not be judged or looked at all cocked headed.   

It will be of great pleasure to read and share on this site.   :bigsmile:
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Offline SoloflyeR74

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Re: Personal Stories of Anxiety Disorder
« Reply #614 on: May 26, 2014, 04:19:22 PM »
My anxiety/depression problems stem from my childhood.  In my post I will have to touch on race, racism, and stereotypes to prove my individual "problem".  I will first say I come in total peace.  I believe in Love, Peace, Happiness, and a Higher Power.  Fantasy right?  Anyway, I was born into drama between my parents.  They eventually get it together and move to California to pursue a better life as a family.  Things seemed nice once we were in California.  I had both parents in the same home working and living as a family.  I was well taken care of and had everything any kid could want and more.  It was nice.  The other side to that is that I also remember seeing my mother crying and depressed over my fathers promiscuous ways all the time.  Seeing my parents fight like that and seeing my mother left in sadness once it was over was devastating to me every time.   

He eventually says "F" it and moves in with the NEXT door neighbor (apt. E to apt. F), of which he eventually married and had children with.  He sent my mother and I packing back to Indiana without anything but tickets to get there.  We instantly became the stereotypical broken "black" family with the single mother on section 8 and welfare.  You can't imagine how my world changed.  My environment.  The "hood".  The stereotype.  Being bullied because I'm of mixed races.  Being called not black or white boy and even getting chased at times scared and hurt me a lot throughout my childhood. I was surrounded by it everywhere though.  I eventually became a part of it.  There was no way around it.  I lived that street life as a teen.  A "thug".  What gets me is that before Hurricane Katrina came and took it all away (I lived down there when she hit), I had a photo album full of report cards with my honor roll awards next to them as well as other miscellaneous awards and ribbons. I was a smart kid.  I didn't want any parts of what I was living in, but I had to survive in my reality around me.  I did an exceptional job of doing it. 

I eventually get arrested as a teen for fighting and get on house arrest and probation.  My probation officer was shocked that such a good student was behaving the way I was.  My mother and probation officer went behind my back and set me up with an Army recruiter.  My mother could sign for me because I was 17 which was leverage that I was totally uncomfortable with at the time but I went ahead with it anyway because I wanted better for myself.  Being I was still living that lifestyle, I did not get accepted into the Army because I failed my urinalysis in MEPS.  That hurt my recruiter because he was truly rooting for me and didn't want to have to report that I had failed my pee test to my PO.  He turned me over to another branch and I left the hood for good.  Serving the military was the best thing that could've happened for me.  It gave me a new life.  Discipline, structure, and purpose.  I absorbed it very well comfortably.

I served my time and got out to move on with my life and start a family.  In parallel my mother was going through a hard time in life with her mental disorders which needed my full attention and my cousin who was like my Siamese twin ended up killing himself from depression....oh my girlfriend of the time started cheating on me and left me as well.  My world seemed over.  Alcohol was my friend.  So I wouldn't have panic attacks, I'd drink no matter what time of day it was or if I've eaten or not.  All alone in my apartment day in day out.  ***** seemed like peace to me.  Instead I kept fighting. 

Things briefly lightened up and I met the mother of my two boys.  Bad mistake.  Not my children, but her.  I was so tired of being alone, I used her for escape even though the "red flags" were all over the place.  She would have sex me with a lot, feed me, spoil me, yet wanted to fight, argue, and cheat on me.  I was so confused because I didn't want to be alone so I accepted the bad with the so called good.  After she had my first son I was stuck.  I wanted to be because I wanted what I didn't have as a child and I was determined to get it for me and my son.  No bueno.  The constant fighting and cheating of her was unimaginable.  It caused my little boys more harm being in that type of environment than having two loving parents apart.  I had to go, but not without my children.  That wasn't a problem since she was so involved with her lover that she told me to take me and my kids and get out of her f'ing house.  She also provided the airfare for our tickets and transportation fees to have my car shipped across country to my mother's house.

Once in SoCal I entered a different world.  Forget the racisms between Whites and Blacks, the racism between Blacks and Hispanics is unreal yet its very real believe me. It was typically the Hispanics who were in their mid/late 30's and up.  Dag near every where I went they'd let me know they were uncomfortable with me.  Again I walk in peace.  I'm very aware of how I present myself.  I'm very careful yet all they saw was a threat.  What's funny is because I eventually end up meeting and hanging out at times with some Cholos from the neighborhood.  They had me all over the place out there with them.  They took care of me.  Can you imagine?  I end up becoming friends with Hispanics while in college as well.  My closest friend was a total "white guy" to the T.  He was very proud of his Scottish/Welsh heritage and voiced it a lot.  He had the cars, lived with his parents in a small mansion and had plenty of money.  He took me everywhere with him to party and chase women in L.A.  We had a blast.  It's a different feeling smoking a joint with a guy like that.  Hello I'm from the hood and ran the streets remember?  Why did my Korean classmate keep taking me to his home with his Japanese girlfriend and to Korea town showing me his culture and food.  He would drop me off at Union Station to catch my train on his way home after class at times. I don't know. It felt good starting and graduating with them. My next door neighbors were a nice white couple who treated me like royalty.  They had me over all of the time.  It was sad to see them have to move out of town but it showed me something as well.  Not all people have it out for me.  One of my ex's from a really serious relationship was Mexican.  We couldn't progress to our full potential because of her racist dictator macho Mexican father.  I couldn't take it and had to break both of our hearts to save myself.  The Pain.  If I get let off of the hook for a total DUI in the deep backwoods of Mississippi where they have what I believe is the biggest confederate flag flying I've ever seen in my life on the main highway is unimaginable.  But true.  I don't talk or act as some would call "white" or "uncle tom".  I am who I am.  I'm very careful, disciplined, yet I will always have "hood" in me.  Not in the manner of acting or thinking in the hood type negative manner, but just a product of my environment.  The same can be said when saying redneck.  Not all rednecks are what the negative stereotypes say they are.  Believe me I know plenty of them.  They're good people just like I am being from the hood.  So as I've said before not all people have it out for me is technical wording.  Because I can easily say they do and feel the same way.  I deal with a vast amount of negativity from mainly white people on a daily basis. It's a battle.  It's a battle in my own so called race because of the way I look.  Smh than that Willie Lynch letter is something else I tell you. 

So I seek refuge in music.  2Pac and Amy Winehouse forever.  I take my medication, go to counseling, and group therapy.  As in the Serenity Prayer I will take the world as it as not as I would have it.  It's one hell of a battle, but will be worth it in the end for me.  I'm fine with that.  I have my peace with my Higher Power and will continue through each day with Him until he pulls me from this hellish place. 

(My condensed version)
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