Welcome To Anxiety, Everyone!

I never thought to compare a lifetime of anxiety to a global pandemic but…what do you know?  Here we are.

I have an entire lifetime of people telling me to chill out or calm down or relax.  Now, I finally have something for them that they can relate to.  It is this.  The uncertainty, the restlessness, the discomfort…that is anxiety, folks.  There are a few differences which I would like to clarify, but this may be the closest you get to what it feels likes for us every day.

I’m not skittish.  I’m not a worry-wort.  I don’t need to man up.  I have a complex set of chemicals in my brain that fire uncontrollably in the face of stressful situations.  You have them, too.  But mine are excessive and long-lasting.  I can’t count to ten and they subside.  They are so intense, so enduring, they eat away the strength of my heart.  They’ve caused me to lose my hair more rapidly.  They invite other physical problems in an effort to compensate for what the anxiety is doing to me.  It’s why I have to take pills.  I don’t want to.  I have to.

The primary difference is that this virus outbreak will be over at some point in the future.  We’ll look back on it and have memories of being cooped up in our houses and wonder why toilet paper is the central creation of western civilization.  Anxiety doesn’t end.  Talking about it can create it.  I feel tense right now as I write this.  No shit. The muscles in my left arm are tight just because I’m tussling with the beast in written form.  Anxiety doesn’t fuck around.  It feeds itself.             My life is a never-ending challenge to take it easy.  I need to do anything: walk, read, nap, work, watch a movie, talk with friends and family, read some more, write down all of this bullshit, just to stay ahead of anxiety.  I can’t give it anything to nibble on.

Before I was medicated, it was ten times worse.  I actually can’t bring myself to write about it.  It’s that bad.

The internet is full of people trying to describe what to do if you have a love one with anxiety.  My wife and I have been together for almost 30 years and she still doesn’t know.  I’ve tried to explain it to her, but she’ll never get it. Not really. It’s hard to understand because it is illogical.  It’s emotions run amok.  So, I have to just tell her and everyone else what not to do around me.  It’s not that bad. 

First, I don’t give a shit about the news.  Because of the wide reach of media, I will find out what I absolutely need to know no matter what.  The minutiae, the day-to-day updates, are inconsequential and fuel for my anxiety’s fire. Second, anxiety is a real thing.  You can’t see it or touch it, but it is real.  When I’m feeling it, it has to be dealt with and there is no need to wonder why or how it appeared.  Especially why.  It is an involuntary response to unknown stimuli.  I don’t have words to give it form and definition.  I just feel like I’m having a heart attack and my nerve endings are trying to leap out of my fingertips.  Happy?!

What do I do? That’s the thought of millions of us during this unusual and stressful time.  That is as close to the central question of anxiety as I can think of.  What do I do?  Am I doing enough?  Am I in danger?  Are my kids okay? Will my mom be alright?  Do we have enough money?  Where are my good socks?  Imagine all of those with equal weight all the time.  Yeah, it sucks pretty bad.

For those of us with it, take your meds, breathe, get exercise when you can, lean on your distractions.  You’ve trained for this. If you are trying to weather this anxiety storm for the first time, you have no recourse but to be patient and understanding.  Leave your preconceived notions about manliness and gumption and John Wayne horseshit at the door.  Be nice.  Be there for someone.  And keep doing that forever, while you’re at it.