Due to Social Distancing, I’ve Been Quarantined With My Anxiety
And let me tell you, she ain’t a ton of fun.
Thanks a lot, COVID-19
Three weeks ago, Cornell announced that students who live on campus must move out by March 29th and classes would resume virtually on April 6th. Wildly enough, classes were still in session for an entire week after this announcement was made. Not only was I supposed to stay focused in lecture and submit a slew of assignments, but also somehow pack up my room, check-in with my family, say good-bye to my peers, and get out of town.
Senior year of college — cut short just like that.
I hadn’t been keeping up with the news when all of this chaos unfolded because “ain’t nothing on the news but the blues.” So, when I finally decided to check, Columbia, Princeton, and Harvard had already sent their students packing. I kept scrolling and saw that the number of COVID-19 cases in New York were the highest in the country.
What’s worse was that I felt like I was coming down with a cold. My throat was sore, and I hadn’t slept for more than three hours a night. I was convinced that my run-down body was going to catch the virus if I didn’t leave campus soon. I tried to distract myself with social media, but the hysteria on there was indigestible. All of my feeds were flooded with posts about the dangers of coronavirus. I found it hard to watch yet couldn’t put my phone down.
Pandemic Pandemonium
Can I just say, I’m not sure what’s more contagious at this point — the actual virus or the angst surrounding it. Before the pandemic, I was already struggling to keep my anxiety under wraps. I couldn’t make up my mind about whether it was worth speaking to a therapist about. I’ve had really poor experiences with health care professionals in the past, but we’ll save that story for another time.
Part of me felt like I was giving up by accepting help from a therapist. I had gotten myself through every emotional obstacle I had ever experienced. Unexpected death, heartbreak, homesickness —you name it, and I had some how managed to squeak by without fully succumbing to depression. I never imagined that anxiety would be the reason I give in and go therapist shopping. I guess I was expecting something more traumatic or life-changing to happen that would push me to my breaking point — not a bad case of nerves.
What stopped me from waiting until then was the distant memory of a conversation I had. A little over a year ago, I asked my psychology professor, “How do you know when you need to talk to someone about your anxiety?”
He said, “When it begins to disrupt your every-day life.”
And that’s exactly what has been happening.
You’d be surprised at what you get used to
Terror, fear, anxiety, nervousness, restlessness— none of those feelings are new to me. They are feelings that I have learned to live with it.
Up until I was 8 years old, I was so terrified of a family friend (who was harmless by the way) that I would become severely nauseated and throw up. Then, I moved to biting my nails and avoiding shameful situations. In high school, I channeled my nerves into my academic performance which provided some relief. Then, college happened.
Instead of the baseline level of unease I’d gotten used to, I started to experience overwhelming waves of distress this year. I don’t know what to call them because I have yet to find a (responsive) therapist who can tell me what’s happening, so we’ll go with “anxious episodes” for now.
Just relax, you’re overreacting…
Imagine that your legs are engulfed in flames. Slowly but surely, the hues of orange, red and blue start creeping up your abdomen, then your chest. You start to pat yourself down to dampen the fire, but your hands and arms become engulfed too. The flames start to spread across your entire body and the pain from the heat searing your skin sets in.
Your heart begins to race. Your chest muscles tighten up so much that you can’t let a deep breath in or out. Your throat begins to constrict itself to the point where you can barely swallow.
What if I vaporize in this very moment and all that is left of me are ashes? What if those ashes get swept away in the wind and no one ever knew I was here?
You desperately scan the room for help, but people continue to walk past you. Strangers stare at you funny. Your friends tell you “Relax, it’s not that deep.” Your family tells you, “Try not to think about it.” It’s almost like no one can see the raging fire consuming your body but you.
And that’s absolutely right. No one can see or feel the flames but you; then, as abruptly as they come, they vanish.
But do you know what everyone else saw?
You, hysterically patting your body, sweating, and grimacing in pain from something that wasn’t there. They see you fighting an invisible force that they’ve sworn you’ve engineered in your imagination. They don’t understand why you’re so exhausted, so worried about something that can’t hurt you. Meanwhile, you feel like you’ve just escaped live cremation by the skin of your teeth.
What if the flames come back? What if they don’t go away this time? What if I do perish?
This, my friends, is what an anxious episode feels like for me. To be quite frank, these episodes make me feel miserable when they happen, and the coronavirus has done nothing but further agitate them. I can’t wait until I find a therapist who I vibe with that’s available to help me extinguish the flames — once and for all!
My heart goes out to everyone during this time whose mental health has been impacted by the current situation
This personal narrative is not one where I detail how I struggled but successfully overcame a challenge. It’s not meant to be wrapped up so neatly that you can put a bow on it. There’s no grand life lesson at the end. It’s just a story about a human being working out the kinks of her humanness.
I wrote this for the people
- who are currently fighting invisible fires and haven’t found resolve. I understand, and I am right there with you.
- who feel like their feelings don’t matter right now. They still do.
- who don’t feel seen amidst the chaos. I see you.
The spread of COVID-19 has acted as a world-wide trigger. It has impacted the masses in various ways. Regardless of what way that is, I challenge you all to be as empathetic as possible and hold space for others when you can. Try to listen without judgement, and be present in the moment.
We’re all we’ve got.
