My Relationship With Anxiety
This is post is a long time coming, yet, I don’t know where to begin. I’ve been very open having anxiety and depression- both online and in person- yet I’ve never really gone into too much detail. Anxiety can mean so many different things for different people. Everyone experiences it differently; to different degrees with different symptoms. This post is completely reflective of my own personal experience.
I began writing this post because I felt like I was at good place with my anxiety as well as my management. I’m sure that I’ve had anxiety my entire life- so many experiences from early childhood make so much more sense with an anxiety diagnosis in the picture- but I was only officially diagnosed my junior year in college. Even then, I was only prescribed a daily anti-depressant and anti-anxiety medication as needed. My anxiety continued to control and impact so many aspects of my life. I would be so nervous before dates and during dates that I couldn’t enjoy them. Also, I get it, everyone gets nervous before dates but this was next level. My anxiety manifests very physically. Warning- some lovely (TMI nasty) imagery coming up. I get what I politely refer to as “anxiety stomach”. It’s not fun. My senior year of college I was taking a final and got hit with anxiety stomach. We weren’t supposed to use the restroom during exams so I finished the test as quickly as possible- read filling in random bubbles towards the end- and ran for the bathroom. Complete false alarm but that’s just my body’s panic response apparently. Side note: it’s not often a false alarm… cute, right?
me, myself, and anxiety
It’s funny to me looking back now and picking out all of the instances that are, now, so obviously anxiety-related. I remember going to swimming lessons in elementary school. I was fine up until the point of my mom driving me to them and would get terrified and start crying and begging not to go. When a did a three-week exchange program to Germany in high school I felt okay until I actually got to my host family’s house. I was really excited to be there and didn’t have a fear of flying, but I just felt off. My stomach was upset and I didn’t have an appetite for the first week or so. The same thing happened on a mission trip to Puerto Rico. I felt like I could throw up, didn't have an appetite, and generally just didn’t feel well. I remember going to my first house party and feeling like I was having a heart attack- shortness of breath, tightness in the chest, the works. All of this was somewhat manageable for me, especially after my diagnosis and the start of medication.
Last summer I was told that my anxiety and “drug usage” ie. prescription medication made a guy feel uncomfortable. I think it was the fact that I had heard it before- that my anxiety was such an inconvenience to others- that really got to me. Also the fact that it was something I was working on but also I felt that it was something I had no control over. I had a few pretty bad months after that, definitely the worst of my life. The funny thing is, I still didn’t initially recognize my symptoms of anxiety. I had just gotten back from New York and figured I had caught a bug on the plane. I went a doctor up in the cities and they had no diagnosis. I felt so ill that I went back to my parent’s and saw a doctor there. Again, no diagnosis. After a couple of weeks I made the association that it might actually be the worst anxiety of my life. I had no appetite. Every morning I would wake up and feel a wave of anxiety hit me and a pit in my stomach. I just wanted to stay in bed. I would go to the bathroom and throw up. Going to work was a challenge. Leaving the house in general was a challenge. I would go to Target and feel like I was going to pass out. After realizing it was anxiety, I decided that it would be a good idea to start seeing a therapist again. I had only seen one over winter break of my Junior year of college but hadn’t since. That was probably one of the best decisions of my life. My therapist taught me coping mechanisms and how to recognize, understand, and untangle my cognitive distortions- cognitive behavioral therapy y’all. She also referred me to a psychiatrist who put me on a medication that really helped me be able to be a better functioning human.
The Cost of mental illness
A few months ago I was due for my annual depression assessment. Basically, it’s a list of questions and you answer yes or no. They give you a score. It’s a very simple check-in. I had to do it over the phone because of COVID-19 and was given the prices. Now, I don’t remember what they quoted me but I was on the phone with the nurse and my doctor for less than 15 minutes and just paid a $150 bill- after insurance. This isn’t a post about the American healthcare system but holy shit. $150. With insurance. For less than 15 minutes. To check in on my depression. Nothing had changed. I was given a score and a $150 bill.
I had a similar situation with my psychiatrist. I was referred to a psychiatrist by my therapist- love her. The first appointment was reasonable, and mostly covered, but I was told on the day of my follow up appointment a few months later that the psychatirst was no longer covered by my insurance. I decided to go anyway because I was having some side-effects from the medication that I wanted to discuss with her. When I got to my appointment she wouldn’t see me because of the out-of-pocket costs and urged me to see another psychiatrist in the organization. So, I set up a different followup appointment with a different psychiatrist. I saw her for maybe 20 minutes, discussed the side affects, and made a minor change to my prescription. All was good. And then the bill came. $300. Despite being referred to her because my previous psychiatrist was out-of-network, it turns out this one was as well. It’s just so frustrating how expensive seeking help can be, even with insurance.
where I’m at now
I started writing this post in a pre-COVID world where I had “control” of my anxiety and was in a generally great place overall. Since then I’ve lost my job and moved in with my parents- talk about a quarter-life crisis, am I right? Thankfully, shoutout therapy, I’m managing pretty well. Definitely better than I thought I would be. I have my moments of panic and spiral thinking about what I’m going to do with my life but, then again, don’t we all?