When I experience a panic attack, it’s not the mild lightheadedness that some celebrities describe during their “panic attacks” on airplanes. It begins with my muscles tensing, particularly in my chest. My husband can always tell something’s off when he sees my expression; he starts to panic himself. “Just breathe,” he urges. “Please, breathe.”
But the breath eludes me. It catches, then jerks, transforming into frantic gasps as I fight the overwhelming sensation that I might die, even though I know rationally that I’m not in peril—I’m just having an anxiety attack.
I feel like a trapped animal, desperately trying to escape my own body. These episodes can be so intense that we once considered getting a service dog, but with the right medication, they have become more manageable. However, the exhaustion they bring often leaves me needing rest afterward.
I have been diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD) by a highly regarded psychiatrist. Prior to medication, even dressing myself could trigger a mental breakdown. I felt isolated, convinced that my social anxiety made everyone around me judgmental. Maintaining meaningful relationships was a challenge, and my academic success was overshadowed by an overwhelming sense of inadequacy. My anxiety has been a part of my life since I was just eight years old. While GAD manifests differently for everyone, my experience is quite typical.
This is why I feel frustrated when the term “anxiety” is thrown around so casually in our culture. As the UK’s Metro points out, the constant chatter surrounding anxiety and depression can unintentionally diminish the experiences of those genuinely struggling with these issues. The more people trivialize their “anxiety,” the more those of us with true anxiety disorders feel sidelined. As Vice’s Tonic column states, the casual use of anxiety terminology can be dismissive to those facing real, debilitating challenges.
When people reference their anxiety, they’re often referring to everyday stressors: bills to pay, temperamental toddlers, disastrous meals, or a messy home. According to Shanthi Mogali, a psychiatrist at the Mountainside Treatment Center in Connecticut, anxiety becomes problematic when normal nervousness turns into an overwhelming presence in one’s life. This can manifest in obsessive worrying about trivial matters, like what to wear to a casual outing, leading to tears and chaos.
Gina, a 26-year-old quoted in the Metro, emphasizes the significant difference between feeling anxious and suffering from anxiety. Life’s temporary stresses are manageable; genuine anxiety can become a debilitating condition that takes years to navigate. It’s crucial that we use these terms with precision—to distinguish between “worry” and “anxiety” and to understand that feeling upset over something does not automatically equate to a psychological disorder.
In my case, my GAD is so severe that I rely on two Klonopin to manage my mornings. While I still experience normal nerves—like whether my dog will perform well in obedience class or if my kids are making friends—those are typical worries. True anxiety, on the other hand, invades daily life and can be utterly consuming.
Recognizing this difference is essential. It validates the experiences of those suffering from GAD, social anxiety, or OCD and encourages individuals to seek appropriate help. For more insights and resources on this topic, you can explore articles on home insemination kits or check out Cleveland Clinic’s podcast on IVF and Fertility Preservation for valuable information on pregnancy and home insemination.
In conclusion, we must be mindful of our language surrounding anxiety. Understanding the distinction between feeling anxious and living with an anxiety disorder is vital for fostering compassion and support for those who need it.
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