I facetime my sister, like, 5 times a day even when I have nothing to say because I just like know she’s there; I keep Netflix running at least 12 hours a day because it fills the silence and keeps my mind distracted from itself; I sleep on the floor of my best friends bedroom when I’m scared or anxious because I like knowing I’m not alone in what I’m experiencing; so yeah, I have separation anxiety, to say the least.
In grade ten I was officially diagnosed with anxiety. I had been experiencing anxiety and panic attacks for years before this, I had many sleepless nights, along with extreme nausea and vomiting. Before reaching the conclusion that anxiety may be the cause of all these symptoms, I went through just about every diet imaginable thinking food sensitivity could be the root of all this. In tenth grade, I finally went to a therapist as well as a doctor to get the help I needed, and it was no easy feat.
I’ve accepted my anxiety; if anything, anxiety and I are good friends. I’ve become very familiar with it and learned to cope, and I’m still learning to cope in a healthy and productive way. I take my meds, I use breathing techniques and different strategies that help to calm me down. It wasn’t until this year, my second year of university, I realized that not only do I have anxiety, but more specifically I have separation anxiety. I was told my anxiety stemmed from separation in grade 11 by my second therapist, who I despised. I thought he was a total quack for telling me that I have separation anxiety because I spend most of my time alone and often prefer to deal with my anxiety and panic attacks alone. As I’ve taken a closer look at my coping strategies and what causes my anxiety to peak, it turns out this supposed ‘quack’ was onto something.
As I said earlier, I spend most of my time alone, and in all honesty, I enjoy it that way. It allows me to be myself without the influence of my surroundings changing the way I behave or the way I view myself. As it turns out I’m never really alone. One of my biggest coping strategies is distraction, getting my mind off the thing that is making me anxious and distracting myself from the physical symptoms I’m experiencing. I often do this through Netflix. I’ve watched the same 2-3 television shows over and over again since 9th grade and I never get tired of them. Once I put them on I feel calm. I always thought that I only watched these select shows because I enjoyed the plots and characters and I wasn’t really interested in watching something new. It turns out that I choose to rewatch these shows because they put me at ease. I know exactly what is going to happen in every episode, so there is nothing new that could pop up and trigger my anxiety. This coping mechanism is my go-to, ask anyone I know, when I’m feeling anxious, unwell or physically ill you will hear Grey’s Anatomy, Gilmore Girls, New Girl or How I Met Your Mother playing nearby. It’s not that I don’t want to be separated from these shows and their characters, it’s that I can put one of these shows on and let it play without actively watching it. This calms me down without, one, burdening anyone with my anxiety, and two, it mitigates the opportunity for something new to spark an adverse reaction to my anxiety.
Secondly, when I’m having anxiety or experiencing physical symptoms that trigger an anxious response, I don’t want someone rubbing my back and telling me everything is going to be alright. In the moment, my brain won’t allow me to think everything is going to be alright. In the moment, it feels like this will never end; that I’m just going to be shivering on the bathroom floor, barely able to keep my eyes open due to the lack of sleep forever.
Secondly, I don’t like being a burden; I don’t like interrupting someone’s sleep or plans because I can’t get a handle on my anxiety. I always feel terrible when I ask for someone’s help and it further enhances the anxiety I’m feeling. For all of those reasons, when my therapist told me he thought my anxiety stemmed from separation, I thought he was insane and, ultimately, I felt unheard. It was as if he’d taken what I’d opened up to him about and spun it, just to make the easiest diagnosis possible. I was angry about it and I made sure to let him know. Well, here I am now apologizing for the rage I let out on that man. Sir, you were right this entire time, because yes, I don’t like being cared for when I’m in the middle of an anxious episode, and I don’t like burdening someone else with my anxiety, but I do like someone being there, so I’m not totally alone. So I know that if I do end up needing help I have the option. Even if they are dead asleep right next to me, or I’m curled up on the floor beside their bed, that brings me enough comfort to make it through the night and know that everything is going to be okay.
For all these reasons and the extensive examination I’ve done on the reasoning behind them, I have accepted that, yes, in fact, my anxiety, which I’ve been experiencing since sixth grade when I moved schools (my first trigger), is rooted in my fear of separation and loneliness, thus making it a prime example of separation triggered anxiety.