How did I figure out that I had anxiety?

Why is it I never hear people talk about this? I didn’t know that I had anxiety when I was a kid, and it was a pretty wild experience figuring it out.

Despite extreme irrational fears, meltdowns during separations of any kind, and general feelings of intense unease during childhood, I did not put two-and-two together, and more importantly, neither did my parents (check out my post about childhood anxiety here).

I was diagnosed with ADHD as a child and started taking medication for it at 5 years old. I tell you this because for most of my life, anytime I described nervousness or what I would later grow up to realize were anxiety symptoms, my doctors and parents would more often than not tell me they were side effects of my meds.

I spent most of my childhood either hopped up on a drug that felt like the equivalent of 5 cups of coffee, or on break from my medication, causing me to become completely aloof and lethargic. If you are on the ADHD grind, perhaps you can relate.

When I was 16 I was adamant about going to an out-of-state private college. I grew up quite poor and I thought going to an expensive school reflected who I wanted to be, and could be a status symbol. I sent in all my college applications and eventually decided on Film studies at Ithaca College.

Leaving was filled with its typical heartfelt goodbyes– I waved farewell to a close group of friends and my first legitimate boyfriend. I had somehow snagged a college roommate from an Ithaca College Facebook group, and we got along well enough. And I made a few friends, but I still could not shake the feeling that there was something very wrong.

Everyone I met at parties kept telling me that they were excited to recreate themselves in college. I had no idea what they meant, because I didn’t know who I currently was, let alone who I wanted to become. I couldn’t make up my mind as to which personality I wanted to have, and I was second-guessing myself at every turn.

Instead of getting better, I got worse over time. For the first time in my life, I was completely silent out of fear. And I hated every moment of feeling crippled under my nervousness.

I’m sure you can relate. We all get lonely. Suddenly your support system is ripped out from underneath you, and at least for me, it felt like I needed to pretend that it was still there. Like everything was fine; like I was doing just great. But after a while, all of that pretending caught up with me, so I receded inward until I literally felt like a shell.

I remember the day I hit my breaking point. I had been walking around my school and a boy in my class said hello to me. I couldn’t even respond because I was so nervous. I pretty much just ran back to my dorm. It’s a bit funny recalling this but I was so ANGRY with myself at the time!

Once I got home, I discovered my roommate wasn’t there, so I leapt at the opportunity to cry alone. I never had any time to myself, so I sobbed for probably 20 minutes straight. It was frustrating to lose your voice the way mine had seemed to disappear. I had no charisma, no gusto, and I felt too tiny for the world. I realized that I had felt absolutely miserable and out of place for at least a month now, and that realization was enough to break my already bending back.

At the time I was still convinced that I felt these things because of my ADHD medication, so I wiped my tears away as best as I could and went to the health center on campus.

When I explained what was happening to the on-campus doctor and how I wanted to change my ADHD meds so I would have less side effects, she asked me a lot of questions. She was very fixated on how I felt lost and like I couldn’t talk to people. I really didn’t get why it was such a big deal. She made me take a test to rank my anxiety, and it came back a 9/10 – “Severe Anxiety.”

At first, I was spiteful. A part of me that liked to be the victim was throwing her hands in the air and going, “Yup, of course! Add it onto the pile!” But once my miniature pity party was over, years of feeling tense and paranoid came crashing down on my shoulders. I remember wondering “Wait, you mean no one else feels like this? This isn’t normal? I’m not normal?” And that thought made me feel the saddest and most lonely that I had all semester.

My doctor gingerly smiled at me, and put her hand on my shoulder. She immediately tried to prescribe me medication for anxiety, to which I firmly declined. But we did change my ADHD medication that day, and after a bit of tweaking, it helped a lot.

I realize that everyone has a different process with diagnosis, and what I haven't written about are all the therapy appointments and doctor's meetings following this that helped really solidify that I had an anxiety disorder. That day was just the tipping point. I hadn’t planned on getting diagnosed with something that day… it was scary.

Now I am 24, and my life looks a lot different. I don’t take medication for my ADHD anymore, and my life has improved significantly because of it. I have tried a few medications for my anxiety and settled on one that really helps level my emotions. And I am completely sober. Although it took me a while to understand the ins and outs of my anxiety disorder, I am 100% better because of it. What was a scary process at first has bloomed into a loving relationship with myself, filled with understanding, patience, and care. But don’t get it twisted– like anything worthwhile in life, the journey was anything but easy.

And I can’t wait to share more about it with you.

I’m curious to hear other people’s stories of how and when they first realized they had anxiety – did you know when you were young, or find out much later? Please share it with me, I’d love to know your story.

Xx,

Renee