Hellooo my fellow anxiety-ridden humans. This one’s for you.
As anyone struggling with anxiety knows, one of the biggest battles is explaining it to the people in your life. Before I developed my anxiety disorder (shoutout to the good old days), I heard people make excuses for things because they “had anxiety”. Quite honestly, it annoyed me. I thought that everyoooone felt anxious about things, and sticking a label on yourself shouldn’t give you a free pass to skipping class, getting extensions and bailing on commitments.
Now that I actually understand what anxiety is, I can see what an ASS I was. And, because I used to think this way, I am constantly worried that this is what other people are thinking about me. This exacerbates the anxiety. Life’s a funny little thing.
Because of this, I am forever on the lookout for the perfect way to explain my anxiety to my family, friends, lecturers, employers and tutors. And a few weeks ago, help arrived in the form of a skinny white man from Boston (the universe works in mysterious ways).
This precious angel is Bo Burnham, a poet, musician and stand-up comedian. He has recently released his directorial debut, Eighth Grade; a story of anxiety told through a young girl’s eyes as she navigates her last week of eighth grade.
Bo was interviewed on the H3 Podcast recently, and spoke out about his own anxiety. In this discussion, he said this: “Having anxiety feels like I’m riding a bull, like my bull is my nervous system and I just have to hold onto it.”
That’s it. That’s exactly it. What makes this the perfect quote is that it strips down anxiety to what it really is – a biological problem. When someone says they can’t do x because of their anxiety, they’re not saying they’re nervous. They’re saying their heart is racing, they can’t breathe properly, they feel disconnected to their body, they have cold sweats, their brain is firing at three times the normal speed, and they just have to hold on until it passes.
The more I think about the comparison, the more it makes sense. It feels like I can finally explain my anxiety to other people, and myself, and accept it. And it works FOR EVERYTHING:
Why do I have anxiety?
Some people are born with a volatile bull. In my case my bull and I went through some scary stuff and now it’s easily panicked.
Why do I need to go to therapy?
Because my therapist is like a bull trainer, and they might just get the damn thing to calm down. It might also take a while to find the right bull trainer for my bull. And they won’t be able to replace my bull with a pony, but maybe they’ll get it to act a bit more like one.
Why do I need to take medication?
Because my bull is kind of out of control, and a tranquiliser won’t solve the problem, but it’ll give both of us a chance to chill out and get through the day.
Why am I not the best friend sometimes?
Some days I will bail on plans, or leave early, or zone out, or tell you I can’t be part of your support system that day… and it’s not because I don’t care, it’s because my bull is on a rampage and I just need to try and hold on.
Why do I talk about my anxiety a lot?
Because it often feels like people are just seeing me flailing around, and I need to point out to them that there is a mad bull underneath me.
Why do I go through patches of extreme happiness and extreme lethargy?
BECAUSE I’M RIDING A DAMN BULL ALL THE TIME. Sometimes it’s exhilarating, and sometimes it’s awful, and sometimes I just need to do nothing for four hours to recover.
I have found so much relief in finally being able to articulate what I have been feeling for so long. I accept myself for what I am. I am not a lazy, whiny, coward. I am a strong and capable human, trying to get through life on the back of a crazed bull. And if you are too, maybe our bulls can be friends.