Mental Illness my Secret Struggle

As a young child I remember feeling over anxious about everything. There was fear in everything and everyone. Back then, they called it being very shy. Yes I was, but the reason for my shyness was my high anxiety.

As an adult I can understand that these feelings were over the top. But as an only child they were very real.

I remember getting anxious before bed. I'd work myself into a silent frenzy about not being able to get to sleep. I wouldn't be able to shut off my mind, if I remembered a song I heard that day it was devastating, as it would loop over and over in my mind for hours. My room was next to the living room which meant I could hear the t.v. This would offer up another hit of anxiety, if I heard theme music to a certain show, I knew it meant that I was up way after my bed time. Eventually I would cry myself to sleep. This was only one of my triggers. Another trigger was thinking about dying or my parents dying. This is turn would end the same way, crying myself to sleep.

School was difficult for me as I never wanted to be the center of attention. Being called on to answer questions was like someone had shone a spotlight on me.I would feel embarrassed and uneasy all the time. I managed to get through school and for a while I thought I had my anxiety under control. Then came time for me to leave home, thought I was ready, guess not.

Anxiety showed up again, this time in the form of heart palpitations. It's funny how you avoid situations as an adult that you know will increase your anxiety. I found out the hard way that you should never ignore your anxiety.

After moving with my husband to another province I worked from home with a daycare. Things were going well for a few years. I thought things were all under control until I started having panic attacks. My first one started in the middle of  the night, waking me from a comfortable sleep. For anyone who has not had the privilege of having one of these, let me tell you, I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy. I woke up suddenly, confused but feeling like something wasn't right. Then the laboured breathing started, the catch is you feel like you can't breathe, so you start to breathe quicker. The overwhelming feeling you are going to die washes over you, your heart  is palpitating through your chest. Then the tingling and numbness in your hands begins until you feel that you will black out at any moment. Thankfully it only lasted for a few minutes but it felt like forever. When it's over and you lay there exhausted and fearing for the next attack.

Not a great feeling, I had several more of these over the next few months. Finally I went to the doctor and have been on medication ever since. Asking for medication was difficult for me, because I was raised to think that medication was a cop out on life. It meant I wasn't a strong woman and I needed help from a drug and couldn't cope on my own, a sure sign of weakness.

Unfortunately a lot of us were raise with this way of thinking. I'm living proof that it's okay to ask for help. I'm not ashamed, because it made me a better mother, wife and person. It means that I had the strength all along it was just hidden under the cloak of  a mental illness.