Introduction
My name is Julia and I am 18 years old. I was diagnosed with a severe anxiety disorder in middle school, but I've struggled with it for as long as I can remember.
When the panic attacks started, I didn't think my body could handle it. My life was constant shaking, dry-heaving, sweating, nausea, and fear. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't swallow. I couldn't be at school. I couldn't even be at home. I had no escape. I had two types of panic attacks: ones where I couldn't move, and ones where I couldn't stop moving. Sometimes, when the anxiety started coming on, it was so bad I couldn't move. It was paralyzing, there were times I was laying in my bed, all I wanted was my mom. She was always home, but I couldn't speak, I couldn't yell for her. My arm couldn't even move to pick up my phone to call her. I just lay there, the only thing I could think of that would stop the feeling was death. The other kind of panic attack I had was the shaking, walking one. These ones were more common for me. I would start feeling nauseous, and immediately I needed to go outside. I needed fresh air, I needed to walk. I needed it so bad that sometimes I didn't even put my shoes on, I couldn't wait another second for that fresh air, that cool breeze. The cold was the best thing for me. Unfortunately, when my panic attacks first started, it was summer. I remember walking around my neighborhood, so hot and so claustrophobic that I wanted to take off all my clothes, I felt trapped in them. There were nights that my dad slept outside on the back deck with me all night because my room felt like it was closing in on me.
At one point, I got really into reading about anxiety. I read people's stories about it so I would know I'm not alone, other people have these same horrible feeling and get through it. I've gone through countless blogs and articles on why people have anxiety and how they fix it, and for some reason, reading about it always made me feel better, and at least gave me a distraction from my racing thoughts.
Now, years later, not a day goes by that I'm not anxious. I handle it now. I control it. Going for a walk is still my go-to when I starting feeling my anxiety building up, but another thing I've realized helps is journaling about it. I have journals on journals on journals filled with anxiety writing. Every entry starts with "Okay so I'm having anxiety" or "Wtf I'm anxious again" or "When will this end". Yet every time I write about it, it fades away. That is the main reason why I'm starting this blog. Anytime I'm anxious, I write in my journal, so I figured why not put it here so someone else who reads about anxiety when they're having an anxiety attack and can read this one.
If you have anxiety, I get it. Trust me. Whatever you're feeling right now, me and thousands of other people are feeling it too. We can do this.
When the panic attacks started, I didn't think my body could handle it. My life was constant shaking, dry-heaving, sweating, nausea, and fear. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't swallow. I couldn't be at school. I couldn't even be at home. I had no escape. I had two types of panic attacks: ones where I couldn't move, and ones where I couldn't stop moving. Sometimes, when the anxiety started coming on, it was so bad I couldn't move. It was paralyzing, there were times I was laying in my bed, all I wanted was my mom. She was always home, but I couldn't speak, I couldn't yell for her. My arm couldn't even move to pick up my phone to call her. I just lay there, the only thing I could think of that would stop the feeling was death. The other kind of panic attack I had was the shaking, walking one. These ones were more common for me. I would start feeling nauseous, and immediately I needed to go outside. I needed fresh air, I needed to walk. I needed it so bad that sometimes I didn't even put my shoes on, I couldn't wait another second for that fresh air, that cool breeze. The cold was the best thing for me. Unfortunately, when my panic attacks first started, it was summer. I remember walking around my neighborhood, so hot and so claustrophobic that I wanted to take off all my clothes, I felt trapped in them. There were nights that my dad slept outside on the back deck with me all night because my room felt like it was closing in on me.
At one point, I got really into reading about anxiety. I read people's stories about it so I would know I'm not alone, other people have these same horrible feeling and get through it. I've gone through countless blogs and articles on why people have anxiety and how they fix it, and for some reason, reading about it always made me feel better, and at least gave me a distraction from my racing thoughts.
Now, years later, not a day goes by that I'm not anxious. I handle it now. I control it. Going for a walk is still my go-to when I starting feeling my anxiety building up, but another thing I've realized helps is journaling about it. I have journals on journals on journals filled with anxiety writing. Every entry starts with "Okay so I'm having anxiety" or "Wtf I'm anxious again" or "When will this end". Yet every time I write about it, it fades away. That is the main reason why I'm starting this blog. Anytime I'm anxious, I write in my journal, so I figured why not put it here so someone else who reads about anxiety when they're having an anxiety attack and can read this one.
If you have anxiety, I get it. Trust me. Whatever you're feeling right now, me and thousands of other people are feeling it too. We can do this.
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