Well Hello There, Anxiety

Hi. I’m Lisa. And I live with anxiety.

At first read, that sounds like a really unimpressive, “so-what?” kind of way to start a blog post. Really, I don’t know anyone who doesn’t live with some anxiety these days.

So let me explain why this is mind-blowingly revolutionary for me to say out loud and why it is equally important to share with you. (I feel like my part of the story is important, but I’m biased. If you just want to know how it’s about you, skip to the “Why This Matters” part.)

The Quick Backstory

I’ve always known I’ve had a bit of anxiety. But I never suspected that it really impacted my life (foreshadowing: …until recently….). 

I remember, in middle school, feeling panicked burning in my stomach in between class periods. For whatever reason, I was so concerned about getting to class on time that I would be physically upset as I speed-walked through the halls, to my locker (during those ancient times when kids still used lockers), and quickly to the next classroom.

I also recall waking up most mornings in tears, before middle and high school, so dreading the day ahead that it was all I could do to drag myself to the shower.

In the years after that, the anxiety started wearing garments of justification. That is to say: whatever I was feeling, I created a reason for it. And with those reasons, I learned to explain (to myself) my way into living with it - functioning in day-to-day life in ways that looked normal, even successful.


Whether at work or at home or out socializing, the ongoing theme was control. As long as I had some semblance of control, the anxiety was manageable. As we all know, though, life doesn’t play that way, so there were many times of feeling out of control. And during those times, I became irritable, angry, exhausted, incapable of functioning the way I wanted to function until I found a fix and felt back in control. (When I was back in control, I still felt exhausted from trying to maintain that control. It was a vicious cycle.)

That way of living sums up a couple of decades of my life.
 

The Ah-Hah / What-The-Hell Moment

Fast forward to a month or so ago, the end of January 2022. I’d gone to a routine doctor’s appointment. We did the normal chatting, blood pressure check, etc, etc. As the appointment was winding up, my doctor asked how everything else was going. (She’s caring like that.)

I mentioned that I was anxious all of the time, vaguely referencing “the world” with a broad sweep of my hand and a laugh. I expected her to laugh with me, nod in shared understanding, and hand me the checkout papers. Instead - and I’ve since learned that THIS made ALL of the difference - she asked again.

And much to my surprise, I started tearing up. We talked for a bit and she gently offered medications as a solution (and a box of tissues for the unexpected tears), but left the choice completely up to me. It was perhaps the shock of the tears that made me realize that just maybe this anxiety was affecting my life more than I thought it was. So I agreed to try.

And I left that appointment, bewildered.

The What Now

Right now, I type this while my eyelids droop and I stifle another yawn. It’s 1:53 in the afternoon. I went to bed last night at 8:30 p.m. and took a 1.5 hr nap already today. Needless to say, “fatigue” is one of the side effects I’m battling as I test out Escitalopram (generic for Lexapro, an SSRI medication), my second attempt at a working medication.

It was the first medication - Sertraline (generic for Zoloft) - that was the splash-of-cold-water wake-up call. It was my experience on this medication that changed everything.

After a week on Sertraline, I recall a drive I was taking with my child. Traffic was bad, and I happened to notice that I didn’t care. It wasn’t just that I didn’t care, it was that there was an absence of a very familiar feeling in my stomach - a slight burn that is always there as I think about where I need to be, fret over who is getting ready to cut me off, or ponder some random conversation I had days before. As odd as that was, it didn’t compare at all to what happened next.

Only a few hours later, I learned some very tragic news about a family member. And I couldn’t cry. It’s not that I just didn’t cry - it’s that I couldn’t.

Now, keep in mind, I’m the type of person who tears up at everything. Sad movie endings, flash mob videos, cute puppies. And in this moment, when tears would’ve been very natural, I just felt…dry. Unemotional. It was disturbing … but not in that moment, because I couldn’t even feel disturbed. 

I called my doctor the next day.

I adjusted those meds in half, and while I started being able to cry again (which is actually a very fortunate thing), I started being able to feel that anxiety again…all of the time. 

It was during these few transitional days that I realized how normal that anxiety felt - like home. It was a security blanket I had never asked for and never wanted, but unknowingly carried around with me nonetheless. I had absolutely no idea how many thoughts and physical sensations I was having on a typical day that related to anxiety, to fear, to the desire to feel in control and to please others and to not look incompetent.

Which brings us to today.

Here I am, aware, and doing my best to now do something about it.

The Why This Matters

So why am I sharing all of this with you?

One - you might see yourself in this. And if you do, I want you to know that you aren’t alone. I’m going to be writing more about my experiences with anxiety - with what I’m learning is probably “high-functioning anxiety” - and why / how such anxiety can go unnoticed even by those who have it. I’m going to explore a bit more (interwoven with my photography and mindfulness work, because that’s the way life is) how my practices of walking and journaling have been unrecognized saviors for my anxiety, and let you know about the process of these meds. I’ll also be explaining more what life with anxiety is like - to help all of us to understand. Which leads to…

Two - I want to normalize this. My guess is that far more people than we realize have levels of anxiety that are drastically impacting their lives (especially given all that we’ve collectively been through and are going through)…and it’s far past time to become aware of it and to do something about it.

Three - you might be able to recognize this in someone else. Even if you don’t feel such anxiety in your own life, chances are you know someone who does. And for those of us who have learned to hide our anxiety (so as not to be impositions on others, so as not to seem incompetent, so as not to add to our anxiety by even thinking about it!, we aren’t going to broadcast it - sometimes even to our closest friends. 

Remember what started this all: my caring doctor and friend not only asked, she asked again. Sometimes, that’s what it takes. Pay attention to those in your life, listen, and have patience.

And finally, four - I ask for your understanding. Whether it's an email you’ve sent to which I’ve not replied or the opportunity to do a photo session that I’ve not yet made available, I ask for your patience. Some days, I’m hyper-productive and have five loads of laundry, 20 emails responded to, and 4 miles walked before breakfast. Other days, I’m lucky to be awake for more of the 24 hours than I’m asleep. 

Nothing has really changed other than my awareness and, as usual, that changes everything. I used to feel guilty about all of the things I wasn’t doing. (Ok, I still feel guilty.) But, as I’ll write more about in future posts, I understand just how much anxiety has been a driving force in keeping me derailed, even when I’ve done all I can to breathe, focus, and create.

I promise, I’m trying.

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I’d love to know what of this resonates with you. As I’ve mentioned, it’s odd sharing such things and having no idea where or if my words land.

Deep breath…. Hey there. I’m Lisa. Writer, photographer, mother, coffee-drinker, and all of this while living with anxiety. Nice to re-meet you.