I've spent a great part of my life being anxious; or rather having anxiety. Of course when I was young, I didn't know what anxiety was and couldn't put a label on what I was feeling. The unexplained stomachaches, headaches, nervous twitches, hives did not have a diagnosis. As a young child, I didn't understand stress, I just knew that I didn't feel good - a lot. My childhood wasn't always happy. Growing up with a severely alcoholic abusive absent father negatively affected our family and the way we lived. Now, many years later, terms such as 'codependency', 'neglect', 'verbal/emotional abuse', 'enabling', and 'addiction' are labels placed on my childhood and adulthood.
Off and on counseling, since the age of 12, has helped me to overcome (mostly) the loss of childhood I experienced, recover from the neglect and abuse, and understand addiction. Unfortunately, the anxiety that started as a young child has not gone away. I experience physical manifestations of anxiety in different forms at different times; never really knowing when my body will go into 'full anxiety'. Years ago, I started a new endeavor as a full-time consultant and broke into full body hives for a week - the physical pain associated with the hives was overwhelming. Its almost as if my body was speaking to me - or rather yelling at me - telling me to be more aware and "wake up!".
When my son was a baby (not even a year old), his dad and I were having a rough go of it financially so I picked up a second job on the weekends. I was already working full-time during the week. After 9 months of working seven days a week with no days off, I was very exhausted. One Sunday I went to work and my chest, stomach and left arm started to ache badly. Worried, I called the doctor who promptly told me to go to the emergency room. Upon arriving, I was briskly taken to the back for tests - since I showing symptoms of a heart attack. Fortunately, I was diagnosed with a duodenal ulcer, stayed in the hospital for 3 days, and told to promptly quit my weekend job. My body telling me to slow down.
Last March, I started having similar symptoms over a period of about 4 weeks. On a Saturday night, I found myself in the emergency room, again with symptoms of a heart attack. After many tests, a visit with a cardiologist, a stress test and various blood samples, it was deduced that I was having anxiety attacks. Again.
I've tried many non-prescription ways of handling my anxiety...meditation, prayer, yoga, vitamins, making sure I get enough rest, not over scheduling...some have worked, for awhile.
I think I'm fairly good at hiding my anxiety, as I wonder if many of my friends and family even know that I suffer from an "above normal level".
I read once that chronic anxiety and stress can actually leave an imprint in your physical and emotional self...a blueprint of sorts. A 'fight or flight' reaction.
Truthfully, I don't know if I'll ever be able to heal from anxiety. I feel my body has grown accustomed to it over so many years; starting when I was very young. When I was 4 years old, my parents left me alone with my 3-year old sister in the evenings while they worked at a factory. Though my mother left a handwritten note (which of course I couldn't read), we foraged through the refrigerator for food to feed ourselves, putting ourselves to bed when night fell on the small one-bedroom apartment the four of us lived in. I would lay in bed not wanting to fall asleep, listening to my sister cry. No bedtime stories for us. The worry, fear and loneliness I must have felt at that age somehow formed on imprint in my psyche. An imprint that I live with everyday.
The anxiety is unbearable. I only hope it lasts forever. ~ Oscar Wilde
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