Part One: The Beginning of a Different Life

 I didn't realize I had anxiety until a decade ago. For forty-plus years, I believed I had "excess energy." Shaking my foot or rocking myself to sleep wasn't strange to me; nor was worrying about every little thing. I had some social anxiety as an adolescent, but I didn't let it show. I realize now that I was internalizing it- versus presenting it in a physical, active way. As a child and young adult, I was more physically active. I rode my bike, skateboarded, roller skated, and was a cheerleader. When I was home, I read books, sang to music, or found a creative outlet. I never told anyone that inconsequential problems or new interactions would terrify me until they worked themselves out. Nor did I admit that making a phone call was something I dreaded. 

The social anxiety eased itself as I grew into adulthood. I became more self-confident interacting with new people and situations. But the worrier in me never left. While I still pursued creative outlets, such as painting, I couldn't always control my distress when problematic situations arose. I had an obsessive compulsion to find a solution as soon as possible, which is still true today. I was also writing scripts for telephone calls well into my thirties. Still, it didn't occur to me that I had an actual condition called *anxiety.* I just thought I was a little bit "different", but generally happy. 

With the advent of the internet and social media, I began learning more about anxiety, OCD, and neurodivergence. I realized I had the signs of all three. Even better, I learned that I wasn't alone. The topic of mental health was becoming less of a stigma, and I could connect with people who had similar issues. As long as I had a creative outlet, a project, or enough people around to distract me, I felt happy, overall. I didn't see my anxiety as a problem that needed medical or psychological attention. 

All of that changed two years ago. I can pinpoint my stress increasing as far back as 2016, when we were shocked by the election results. Day after day, there was something in the news that distressed me because I had no control over it. I didn't realize that all the new stressors were building up, along with my own personal concerns about finances, vehicle maintenance, health issues, and the fact that I was now living alone with no one else to help me shoulder the load. I was developing an ulcer, and didn't realize it.

My first anxiety attack happened around Christmas 2021. I choked on a piece of al dente ravioli and literally thought I was about to die. I was alone, and the fear of dying forced me to heave and heave my chest until I was able to bring it back up into the kitchen sink. Afterwards, I felt myself shaking and a weird sensation spreading through my limbs. I didn't know at the time that it was an anxiety attack. That scared me as much as the choking, so I drove myself to the emergency room. After the long wait, the sensations had eased by the time the attending physician saw me. They checked my heart, which was fine, and let me go...without ever mentioning "anxiety" or "attack".

Two months later, in February 2022, there was an electrical short in the home I was renting. In the middle of the night, the power went out through most of the house. The microwave kicked on and smelled like it was burning. It was making a horrible sound. I jumped up, cut off the breakers, and left the house for a motel. I was so terrified the house would catch fire that my heart was thudding and I could barely make my limbs move as I grabbed things to take with me. Even though my landlord and electrician fixed the problem, I couldn't shed myself completely of the fear from that night. I carried it with me, tampered down, but always there.

A month later, I ate a protein "power meal" for supper. It seemed to be aggravating my stomach, even while I tried to go to sleep. I felt a crawling sensation in the back of my neck that seemed to keep growing. So I got up and paced. My upper stomach was tense, and the unease in my body wouldn't go away. I just felt like something was wrong, so I got dressed and decided to drive to the emergency room again. I didn't make it there. As I was driving, that scary sensation I felt back in December enveloped me again. It spread from my chest to my fingers and toes, and I felt myself trying to hyperventilate. I pulled over and called 911. It was the wonderful 911 operator who told me I was having an anxiety attack and she masterfully coached me until the EMT's arrived. I was so grateful to see them, that tears poured down my face. For the first time in a long time, I felt like someone else was lifting a burden from me.

To be continued.