My anxiety is not an Issue (Revised)
Note: Hi all, I published this same story last week, but for some reason paragraphs got repeated. Below is my full, structured story.
For the last few years, I have experienced isolated panic attacks. In the past three years, I have experienced over ten panic attacks that all involve the same symptoms: uncontrollable paranoia, sharp headaches, dizziness, confusion, and hysterical behavior.
The panic attacks are out of body experiences; my soul drifts from my body. My mind is very much conscious of what is going on, but my body is left to self-destruct. My mind floats up to space while my body is grounded and forced to deal with the pain.
My anxiety used to be a burden, a guilt, and a weakness. In reflection, as a result of a panic attack, put me in the hospital, ended my last relationship, and terminated previous friendships. I hated myself for most of my teenage years because I was living with something I could not understand. However, for the last two years, I have been at peace.
My college friends are aware of my anxiety, but none of them understand it. It’s not even like I blame them, for a long time I didn’t understand my personal anxiety. One day, during the fall semester of my senior year, a cold comment was said to me by one of my friends.
The conversation went like this: “Hey Danny are you going to the dance light show later?” said my friend. “Probably not,” I responded. “It is not good for me to be around flashing lights.” “What do you mean?” said my friend. My other friend responds for me, and says “he has issues.”
To say someone with anxiety has issues is the equivalent of saying someone with a down syndrome is “retarded.” It was an insulting, cold comment, but now, it doesn’t bother me.
My anxiety is truly beautiful because it has helped me become an amazing person. It has helped become patient and caring by allowing me to become appreciative about the important aspects: presentations, collegiate tennis matches, and relationships.
Previously, during school presentations, I would become irritable and flustered once I saw the audience. My anxiety forces to me to constantly remember that fear, so I rehearse a speech until I memorize it.
Previously, in collegiate tennis matches, I would become anxious and rush through the game. I conquered my irritability by learning to go slow and taking my time. I needed the anxiety to appreciate the virtue of patience.
Previously, I was so selfish because I needed to take care of myself before I could help other people. Now that I understand who I am, I have become altruistic and empathetic. I have stronger connections with people and understand that everyone is struggling with something.
My anxiety will always be present, but it is not an issue. It is who I am and I love who I am.