You Do Not Need to Suffer in Silence
My personal battle with anxiety
It’s rare that I openly talk about my issues with anxiety, aside from the people closest to me. It’s something I have suffered from since the age of 13 but was never diagnosed until the age of 24. When I was growing up, I thought the things I was feeling were just symptoms of stress from issues with my father, a heavy course load, bullying, etc. As I got older, I assumed what I was experiencing was a high level of stress due to getting married young, raising a child, getting divorced, living on my own, going to school, and trying to navigate through the dating world. What I didn’t know at the time was that stress and anxiety are two completely different things.
Like many people with anxiety, I go through periods where I feel pretty great. On occasion, I even forget I have an anxiety disorder. Then there are those moments that hit me like a ton of bricks, where I feel like the world is closing in, ready to suffocate me at any moment. Those moments where I become agitated, emotional, depressed, and panicked for no reason at all. Sitting alone hyperventilating with chest pain, sweating, feeling like I’m drowning in my own skin. You start to think maybe you’re going crazy, like maybe everyone else thinks you’re crazy too.
If this experience has taught me anything, it’s that despite my weaknesses, I am an amazing mother, even when I am walking the depths of the darkest places of my soul.
Mental health, in general, has a huge stigma attached to it. Even though it is being talked about more and more, many people still get uncomfortable when the topic comes up. We are made to feel ashamed. People question the legitimacy or seriousness of our illness, saying that, “everyone seems to have anxiety or depression nowadays,” or “suck it up, get over it, it’s just life.” I’m here to respond for everyone suffering, that we wish it was that easy. No one wants to suffer from anxiety or depression. No one wants to feel like their life is spinning completely out of control. If we could simply, “suck it up and get over it,” trust me, everyone would.
Anxiety can be caused by many things. It wasn’t until last year that I learned the catalyst for my anxiety is in fact Post Traumatic Stress Disorder or more commonly known as PTSD. Being a military wife, that word made me cringe at first. I hadn’t been to war. I hadn’t witnessed death firsthand. I hadn’t lived in daily fear. Did I even have the right to claim PTSD? What I didn’t realize was that PTSD doesn’t always manifest from a life or death situation. Many times PTSD is caused by a collection of small traumas, hardships, or losses throughout one’s life. Generally, when people do not grieve or heal properly, it sits within you, festering and infecting you from the inside. So, even though I did not often think about those bad experiences, they were still affecting me very deeply. People have the tendency to bury their emotions, wanting to feel strong and in control. I put on a brave face to prove to myself and the world that I am unbreakable. All the while, I’m crumbling on the inside without even knowing it.
As a mother, I feel as though I need to hide my illness even more because we live in a society that is constantly picking apart every little choice we make. We are no longer allowed to raise our own children the way we see fit; we have specific guidelines to carefully follow. That puts an extreme amount of pressure on any parent, never mind one who suffers from anxiety already. I am constantly questioning if I am doing a good enough job, if I am instilling good morals and values in my children, if I’m too hard on them, or not hard enough. But I can’t talk about the anxiety I feel when it comes to parenting because then everyone will be questioning if I am capable enough to raise them. Questioning if I should be having more children.
I actually felt like I had a pretty good grasp on my anxiety until I found out my husband and I were expecting twins. Our third and final baby turned out to be our third and fourth. I will be quite honest and say that I was completely terrified when I learned it was twins. There were many periods of tears, panic, and confusion. I had no idea how I felt but I knew what I was feeling wasn’t “normal” by societal standards. Everyone kept telling me how excited I must be and how blessed I must feel. I wasn’t feeling any of those things and I felt guilty for it. But, again, it’s not something we can talk about without judgment.
As a planner and a micromanager, I am constantly trying to control every aspect of my life, because if I feel as though my life is in control, my anxiety is significantly reduced. That really isn’t the best method because, as we know, many things in life are completely out of our control. When something unplanned happens, or doesn’t go just as I had envisioned, my anxiety surges and I spiral. I love being a mother. I love my children. I knew I was going to love the twins with every ounce of my being. But having twins was not a part of my plan. I never pictured being a mother to four children. Could we afford it? Could we manage four children? How would we be able to evenly split my time between four little humans? We were going to have two newborns to care for at the same time. Could I do it on my own when my husband went back to work? Could we keep four children alive? Was the constant worry over four children going to kill me? People say, “well you decided to have another child.” That’s right, we did, but having twins is honestly not something most people prepare themselves for.
I am now in my third trimester and the girls could be here anytime. It took me almost my entire pregnancy to come to terms with the idea of having twins. The anxiety and fear that comes with the unknown consumed me so much that I had a hard time enjoying the miracle that was happening inside of me. My mind raced constantly. I laid awake most nights thinking of all the ways I could screw this up; how I could fail. You see, much of my anxiety comes from never having felt good enough or adequate, from being treated as if I were disposable. So, it’s hard not to question every move I make. I couldn’t talk to anyone. What was supposed to be a happy time, felt really lonely.
It wasn’t until we got the news that something may be wrong with one of our little girls that I finally snapped myself out of my funk. Aside from some medical issues with myself, the girls had been completely fine up until this point. To learn at 29 weeks of pregnancy that your child could suffer their entire life with a condition that is pretty limiting, shakes you to your core. As a mother, the love I have for my children surpasses every stress, worry, and hardship. A strength comes over me. I go into fight mode and I protect and care for my children at all costs. I may not feel ready to take on two newborns, but I was meant to be their mother. That I am certain.
We still do not know for certain that our little girl is going to be okay, although some recent tests have been very positive and encouraging. If this experience has taught me anything, it’s that despite my weaknesses, I am an amazing mother, even when I am walking the depths of the darkest places of my soul. No matter how bad my anxiety is, I do not have to be ashamed and I do not have to hide it. I am strong and full of love and life, despite my anxiety. My anxiety doesn’t define me and hiding my illness only encourages others to do the same. We should be talking about it, and talking about it often. If you are out there right now dealing with anxiety or any other mental illness, I want you to know that you are human. You aren’t alone in this battle. People care and are listening. You do not need to suffer in silence.
