hi, i'm new to this site and a little nervous, but i'm going to try and not be too reserved in what i'm going to say, because if anyone can truly understand and relate it will be people who have shared and continue share similar experiences.
i'm 22 and for pretty much my whole life i've dealt with anxiety. over the years it's also seemed to manifest itself in different ways. when i was younger it was mainly separation anxiety from my parents, mainly my mom, and night time was always the worst for me, because during the day i at least had things to distract me, but as soon as it was dark and time for bed my anxiety would kick in full force and i was always afraid to go to sleep in fear my parents would leave me. i hated being left alone, even if my dad would just leave me in the car to run into the grocery store. in middle school i was hit hard with depression, started seeing a psychiatrist and psychologist and was prescribed zoloft.
sometime during high school most of my anxiety symptoms seemed to disappear and i guess at this point i can contribute that mainly to my various forms of "self medication". eventually i stopped taking the zoloft and was perfectly fine.. for awhile. i'm not too sure when it started, because it seems like it was such a gradual change, but i would stop going certain places and eating certain things and washing my hands a lot. a couple of years ago while i was at work i had one of the worst panic attacks of my life. i had to leave and for weeks afterwards i couldn't leave my house. i seemed to be constantly having panic attacks every day, all day. i couldn't sleep, i couldn't eat and i had convinced myself that i was losing my mind. i went back to the doctor and not only was i racked with anxiety and having full blown panic attacks, but they also informed me that i was moderately to severely ocd. great. not only am i constantly anxious, but i now obsess about my anxiety.
they tried putting me back on zoloft, but even taking the pills gave me panic attacks. i took half of an ativan once and ended up throwing up. i'm not even able to take anything like tylenol anymore without having serious anxiety. i can't eat food unless it's been made in my house and by either me or my mother. there are a few other things i can eat that don't fall into that category. i don't drink caffeine. i don't drink alcohol. i don't do any sort of drugs. i don't take any medication. i guess i do pretty well. i've held down my job and i keep a pretty decent social life, but i've been finding myself to become more and more withdrawn. i don't know why this happened or how it got this bad. lately i've been taking some baby steps and making small breakthroughs. i've eaten a few things outside of the house and although i ended up having anxiety i haven't died yet, so i guess that's pretty good.
there's a trip i really want to take to see a person i really want to see and it would more than likely involve an airplane, unless i wanted to sit on a bus for 28 hours, but i've never been on an airplane and the latter just sounds like torture. is it even a good idea for someone who has panic attack to get on an airplane? plus how do i expect myself to push myself that far outside of my comfort zone? what would i actually eat and how would i not be an anxious, manic mess? i never want to tell myself that i can't do something, because i know i can do anything, i just don't allow myself to.
i'm sorry this is so long and i could probably make it longer by going into detail the things i worry about, but they make me feel so foolish and embarrassed. i'm always completely rational until my anxiety comes into play and then all reason and logic goes out the window. i guess what i'm trying to say is that i feel like i'm at the end of my rope. i'm still young and i know i'm full of potential, but i feel like a prisoner inside of my own brain. i feel so alone and so many of my relationships, even friendships, have failed because of me and my anxiety. there are so many things i want to do and i am just too scared to make any moves, but i'm so tired of being scared. maybe medication would help and maybe it wouldn't and maybe i'm just stubborn and stupid for not taking it. i don't really know where else to go. even the people who love me don't understand me anymore. i just always seem to disappoint everyone. they think if i cared enough i would just do these things. it never has anything to do with not caring enough. maybe i just care too much. fearing for my life and safety all of the time makes me feel so selfish. i'm so tired and i just want someone to help and understand me.