Author’s Note: The person who shared this story wishes to remain anonymous.
“I don’t believe in anxiety.”
“Stop being such a pussy.”
“It’s all in your head.”
The ground trembles beneath my feet in syncopated drops. My vision paints itself in watercolor, bound in the abstract. Then, it envelops me, or perhaps it already had. Wave after wave of tyrannical fear grips my body as I attempt to control my thoughts, but they run in fiery circles, guns blazing.
To me, the idea that something so real and prevalent in my life could be misconstrued as a construct of my imagination is hurtful and absurd. Around one in 75 people experience panic attacks during their lifetime, and for many of us it’s a recurring nightmare.
To put the feeling of panic attacks in more relatable terms, it’s like that moment when you trip on the sidewalk and don’t know if you’re going to fall flat on your face or catch yourself. A panic attack leaves you feeling like you’re perpetually stuck in that moment, either because of a trigger, or for seemingly no reason at all.
Panic attacks are not just feelings and emotions. They manifest in real, physical symptoms. While every experience is different, I personally begin to shake uncontrollably, my vision blurs, and at times I feel as though I am unable to walk. The aforementioned fear I described overcomes me and, despite being perfectly aware of the fact that I am safe, I cannot help but feel utterly terrified of nothing in particular. In my experience, one of the worst aspects of panic attacks is feeling as though they are irrational.
For this reason, when people say, “It’s just in your mind. Get over it,” they only make things worse. Grappling with the fact that I am subject to this irrationality is difficult enough without other people telling me that my mental processes and state of mind are invalid. If I had the capacity to simply “get over it” by convincing myself that I was okay, do they really think I’d subject myself to quakes of terror and restless nights? It’s insulting for people to insinuate that this is somehow my choice, as though I choose to live this way.
That being said, there are ways to cope with anxiety. For me, I reduce my alcohol intake and practice breathing exercises. I’ve also learned to say no to excessive work and pace myself to learn my limits.
So yes, anxiety is in my head. That’s the very nature of mental illnesses, but that doesn’t make it any less real. It doesn’t mean that there’s a sudden quick fix. It doesn’t mean that it’s just in my head. Anxiety means something different to each and every person affected by it, but to me it’s a symbol of my resilience – the fact that I can continue to function despite my mental illness. It reminds me that I can overcome anything I set my mind to, regardless of the magnitude of the obstacle. It reminds me to be a more empathetic human being, because we all have our inner demons. It helps me cherish every other moment that much more and always try to live my life to the fullest.