2018/01/23

the goods, the bads

I still wake up anxious.

What's different is that my mind doesn't immediately latch onto the first thing to blame my anxiety on. When I'm at my best, I'm able to say "welp, there goes my anxiety acting up again. Let me just focus on what I can do to bring my anxiety down to a manageable level."

Then, I spring into action and work, work, work, work, work, or take a few deep breaths, or distract myself with garbage media (thanks, Internet), or exercise...

Sometimes I'm able to forget about the anxiety.

And other times it just stays with me.

I was anxious all day today. I didn't have a particular "trigger" or something to blame for my anxiety. I mean, yeah, work is always crazy. As a teacher, you always have to be on. You have to be consistent in upholding your rules for every student; you have to deal with conflict with infinite patience; you have to repeat yourself many times; you have to decide how to deal with many, many, many people's needs and emotions; you wake up early to not have to rush to work and battle traffic, you get to work early to start prepping your materials, you teach all day and meet with students in every tiny little crack of time to field individual needs, you tutor after school, you grade after that...

So yeah, work is crazy.

Still, I had nothing to fear, right?

And yet.

And yet.

This is how I dealt with my anxiety today: I blamed nothing on my anxiety. I smiled a lot. I spoke very sweetly with students. I exercised lots and lots of patience. And I worked and worked and worked.

I'm eager to return to therapy and hear what else I can do to manage (...cure?! please, God, cure...) my anxiety.

2018/01/21

my overachieving reptilian brain


Here is a long list of facts:
  • the reptilian brain (the part of our brain in charge of instinct and basic functions) absorbs information; at times, a stimulus can cause it to reacts as though the body is in a life-threatening situation 
  • this reaction can include pulse racing, shallow breath, adrenaline coursing through the body, sweat, blood rushing away from my limbs and to my core, arms numb...
  • when this happens, it's called a "panic attack"
  • panic "disorder" is when, either due to a trigger or without a trigger, there is a breakdown between the logical part of your brain (the frontal lobe) and the reptilian part of your brain; even though you know that you are not in any danger, your reptilian brain overrides your frontal lobe and sends signals to the rest of your body to go into full panic mode
  • at this point, the best way to handle a panic attack is to allow the adrenaline to run it's course and ride out the initial shock
  • if one becomes anxious during the attack, then - rather than allowing the otherwise small burst of adrenaline to run out - the panic attack may continue
  • panic "disorder" is when one's brain is overly sensitive to stimuli, to the point that panic attacks occur more frequently
  • this, in and of itself is not a problem; it is a problem when the attacks hinder a person from being able to go about their daily life, do the things they want to do, and be who they want to be
  • a panic attack may occur as a result of anxiety reaction
  • anxiety is a normal human reaction; in fact, it is a necessary emotion for survival 
  • anxiety can drive one to react to an event - it ensure that you keep yourself out of danger
  • anxiety "disorder" is when one fears, stresses, and/or worries to an extent that is disproportional to the stressor
  • symptoms include loss of sleep, irritable bowel syndrome, feelings of worthlessness or despair, crying, irritability, avoidance, and others
  • people with anxiety disorder may avoid situations that they believe will trigger their anxiety, including social events, presentations, confrontation, and new experiences
  • anxiety disorder can hinder a person from being able to go about their daily life, do the things they want to do, and be who they want to be
  • just because someone has anxiety disorder doesn't mean they're agoraphobic, wrapped in a straight jacket, spending their life rocking back and forth in the corner of a padded room
  • in fact, nearly 2 in every 10 American adults suffer from anxiety disorder. These people are teachers, police officers, doctors, lawyers, mothers, fathers,...
  • yet only 1 in 3 of those who suffer get help
  • I was diagnosed with anxiety and panic disorder

Here were my initial thoughts upon learning the prior list of facts:

  • oh, so what I've experienced are called "panic attacks"
  • wait, you mean to tell me, doc, that you've only experienced 2 in your whole life? I can't even begin to count the number I've had in my lifetime. I've had 3 this week.
  • ...but doesn't everyone experience stress and anxiety?
  • is my reaction to stressors not normal?
  • OK, I can jive with you that what I've had are called panic attacks, but now you're telling me I have panic disorder?
  • DISORDER?
  • wtf does that mean? I'm sick? you're telling me that the way/amount I experience stress/worry/far is not normal? am I crazy? how long have I been crazy? am I going to be crazy for the rest of my life?
  • I think I'm panicking
  • why me, I've never been diagnosed for anything in my life, why this, why now, why me
  • how do I know you're right, doc? 
  • maybe you're just over-diagnosing and there's nothing wrong with me. Maybe I just suck at managing stress and I'm overly emotional and overly sensitive
  • am I going to lose my job over this?
  • can I still have kids?
  • will my kids inherit this from me?
  • will I have to take medication?
  • will I become addicted to medication? I mean, am I one of those people who needs pills to be happy?


Here are thoughts that came to me later, in the days following the diagnosis:
  • that time that I got stressed out about ____ - was that not a normal reaction to the situation? (repeat this thought 10,000 times for every moment in my life I felt worried, afraid, or stressed)
  • if the doctor is wrong and I don't have an anxiety disorder, does that mean I just suck at managing stress? why are other people better at managing stress and why can't I be like them?
  • if the doctor is right and I do have an anxiety disorder, does that mean that those times when my anxiety was at its worst... like when I would sleep only once every two days in college, or when I was convinced that an evil voice wormed its way into my brain to play a broken record of negative thoughts, or when I would make myself throw up in high school as a stress release, or when I would break down in sobs, hyperventilating (even fainting once), feeling like I fell down a pit with no hope of getting out, followed by hating myself for not being able to get it together... is not because I suck at managing stress, but because my reptilian brain is an asshole overachiever that loves to pump adrenaline and "worry" hormones as often as it fucking pleases at the most inconvenient times?
  • are my fears/stresses/worries still legitimate, or are they a disproportional reaction to a stressor?
  • if I accept the diagnosis, will my anxiety become a self-fulfilling prophecy? can I reject the diagnosis? is it at all possible that the diagnosis is wrong and that I'm normal (whatever that means, anymore) and that I can and will lead a normal, mentally healthy life?
  • is my anxiety always "real", or is it sometimes "just" due to a disorder that I have?
  • I want to believe that having a mental disorder is as much a fact and nuance in humans as being left handed, or catching the flu, or having a runner's build, or having diabetes -- that is, at best, a neutral (not good, not bad) trait, at worst, a treatable, albeit uncomfortable, inconvenience 
  • I know, in theory, that just as a diabetic needs insulin, so too does a person with a chemical imbalance in their brain need medicine to help them be properly functional
  • ...the progressive in me believes all that, or at least, really, really, wants to believe that...
  • ...so why do I feel like having a mental disorder is the worst, most embarrassing that could possibly have happened to me? 
  • it's not my fault that my brain works this way; I neither did this to myself nor neglected to do something which caused this to happen to me; this isn't something I can *positively think* my way out of, or muscle through, or reason out, or avoid, or ignore, or take care of myself (though I've tried and continue to try all those things)
  • this just is something that I have been learning to manage and will continue learning to manage... this time, with professional guidance and therapy
  • apparently, there are a few best-case-scenario outcomes that have happened to people who have been diagnosed with panic disorder: after treatment, they have fewer panic attacks, they get better at recognizing and managing anxiety, some never experience another panic attack again and others only have panic disorder for a short period in their life.
  • I suppose I should be thankful that I don't have to continue suffering like this
  • and thankful that I have access to mental healthcare
  • and thankful that anxiety and panic disorder is common and highly treatable
  • and proud that I've already gotten better at managing stress over the past years and years and years... through yoga, running, meditation, mindfulness, life coaching, healthy relationships, journaling, art, travel, healthy diet...
  • and proud that despite the anxiety, I've built a life for myself that I love: I love my students, I work hard at my job, I've achieved many of my goals and dreams, I have healthy relationships, and I push myself through difficult situations.

So, I guess overall, many good things have happened for me. Blessings still continue to come my way. I have to believe that this diagnosis is the beginning of something great.