Anxiety Disorders – Going Through Life in Distress… (Part 2)

The Beginnings of My Troubles

For all intents and purposes, it is perhaps not surprising that I suffer from a number of anxiety disorders, mainly generalised anxiety disorder (GAD), and social anxiety disorder. Given some of events that have taken place in my life, and the experiences that have I have had over the years…

As a small child, I had suffered from a serious, life-threatening illness (a brain tumour), which for many years affected my physical abilities and responses. As a result, I became emotionally and for quite a while, physically too, very dependant on my Mother. As I grew older, thankfully, I overcame the physical issues, but emotionally I remained a big baby – and I was very much Mummy’s big baby!

I had also always been very shy and didn’t really like being around other people; I didn’t feel confident in myself, and whenever my Mother wasn’t with me I felt very insecure. And though shyness in itself in not considered a disorder, it was quite distressing. I remember the distinct uneasiness I felt if ever my Mother had to leave me with relatives to go somewhere.

If people I didn’t know came to the house I’d try and run upstairs. However if I couldn’t manage that before the “strangers” came in, I’d hide wherever I possibly could – in a kitchen cupboard, in the garage, outside in the garden, absolutely anywhere!

By the time I was about 15 years old, I had already started experiencing the distressing and unpleasant symptoms of a number of anxiety disorders. I remember clearly feeling fear, panic, uneasiness and at times down right unbearable distress, in circumstances that I knew were not out of the ordinary.

My Life with Anxiety Disorders

This post is about certain events and circumstances in my life, and how they contributed to the stress and anxiety that set in around my Mother’s death from cancer; which, as I grew up, turned into my normality… Anxiety, stress, fear, panic, and even terror… Such are the emotions that I have lived with most of my life since then…

My Mother had fought her illness very hard and had taken every treatment available, no matter how difficult or painful. My sister and I were both very young, and she wanted to try and live for us as long as she possibly could. But when the end finally came – it was devastating for us. We loved her dearly and I for one, needed her immensely.

Her illness and subsequent death was very traumatic for the whole family. And while the years that followed dulled some of the terrible memories of that catastrophic event, the pain never really went. It just eventually subsided to an even keel, an unchanging, constant state of deep, sorrow.

Eventually, this underlying state became the norm… In other words we became used to her loss. But, the devastating effects of her death left their scars on all of us…

Feeling the Loss

Our Dad, who was a doctor, had undertaken our Mother’s care himself. But near the end, we all looked after her. She died at home, and the memories of the last few weeks of her life are burned into our psyches forever…

Her death was devastating for all of us. After she died we found it extremely hard to cope. I was about 10 years old at the time, and little by little as my coping mechanisms became overloaded, I started suffering from various anxiety disorders.

The first ones that I remember genuinely experiencing were social anxiety disorder, and post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Perhaps something that I still suffer from to this day – PTSD.

In retrospect, we had all developed PTSD, but, it wasn’t well understood at that time. In any case my sister and I were children and our Dad didn’t have emotional wherewithal left to entertain such notions anyway… We were bereaved, everyone goes through it at some point – we just had to get on with it, the best we could… Life is like that sometimes.

The Distress and Disillusionment and Depression

None of us really ‘grieved’ as such. We didn’t get any kind of counselling, and nor did we really get much time to engage in such ‘luxuries’. Our Dad had no one to cover for him at his surgery, so went to work as always, and my sister and I went to school…

The first day I remember I was allowed to listen to morning assembly alone over the PA system, without having to go into the assembly hall. The Head Mistress very kindly mentioned our Mother’s death, and said a little prayer for her.

After that, it was back to tough schooling as usual, there were no allowances made for us; if we didn’t manage to do our homework, or if we failed to pay attention in class… Whatever was happening in our lives, it was our problem – not anyone else’s, and no one really seemed to care.

I started falling behind in my studies. I’d always sat with our Mother when studying, (or doing pretty much anything else for that matter). On one occasion, I hadn’t been able to do my homework. I can’t remember the exact reasons why I hadn’t done it, but it was something to do with the turmoil in my life, and the sheer distress and overwhelm I felt at the time.

The teacher demanded why I hadn’t done my homework, I tried offering an explanation of some sort; but it made no sense, except that my world had collapsed. She glared at me and replied “I don’t care,” and gave me a detention.

Developing Emotional Problems

I remember feeling bewildered, and disillusioned upon realising the world doesn’t concern itself with our troubles. If we have someone to turn to, we’re lucky, if not – it’s tough luck. Although our Auntie had come over to look after things, she became concerned only with how our Dad was feeling, not my sister and me. Our Dad on the other hand, worked extremely long hours and assumed that because our Auntie was there my sister and I would be alright.

No one cooked for us; no one washed our clothes; no one asked if we needed anything. Our Dad came home very late, and went upstairs to his room to get on with his paperwork. Life became very lonely. I started suffering from depression, but there was no one there to notice it.

My sister was told to get a job and not to come home until she found one. But she wasn’t old enough and no one would give her a job. She walked and walked and walked miles and miles asking all the shops in all the nearby highstreets for a job, but no one would give her one.

Eventually, after walking a whole day, she found herself near where our Dad’s receptionist lived, so she went there. From then on, for the longest time, I hardly ever saw my sister, she rarely came home; and mostly just stayed with our Dad’s .receptionist.

Trying to Cope

I felt more alone than ever. I’d come home from school, our Auntie would be in the kitchen cooking for our Dad, or for our eldest cousin who lived with us. I’d go to the fridge, eat some bread and just try and find myself some place quiet to sit and read or do my homework.

The house seemed so different. The atmosphere had changed – it was no longer anything to do with what I had known all my life. I felt like some sort of an insignificant hanger-on in my own home. I felt uneasy all the time. I had developed generalised anxiety disorder (GAD).

Things at school seemed just as hard. I couldn’t bear it, and I couldn’t cope. My shyness had prevented me from making many friends. Without my Mother, I felt I had no one at all. I felt completely alone.

To try and recreate some sort of familiarity I started staying up late at night, imagining our Mother was there and pretending things were as they used to be…

It offered some solace, and helped me cope, but soon it became almost like a surreal addiction; I had developed derealisation disorder. In time I ended up sleeping half the day away at weekends, and stayed up half the night, every night.

A Constant Struggle

I think it was around this time that I developed what would become a lifelong sleep disorder. And the fatigue I felt from lack of sleep, added to the general state of unease and distress I felt due to the GAD.

I was emotionally totally lost by this stage. I felt I had no one to relate my troubles to, and it seemed there was no point anyway… No one seemed to be particularly interested in my life anymore. I realise now that was just my perception from a very deep state of depression. Our Dad was still there. I just didn’t see him very often.

Nevertheless, since no one took care of my personal needs, there was no reason for me to think otherwise. I looked permanently dishevelled… My school uniform had started to look unkept and dirty, and some of the teachers started complaining. All my clothes were dirty, my shirts, my socks, my undergarments… I had no clean clothes, and no confidence left in myself.

I felt I wasn’t good enough to ask for anything either, and had to try and solve all my own problems regardless of what they might have been. So when I grew out of my clothes I started wearing some of my Mother’s old clothes. My sister’s clothes didn’t fit me at the time. She was very slim, and I had put on a lot of weight. Eventually I had just one pair of socks and one set of ill-fitting undergarments left. I didn’t think I was worthy of new clothes.

A Little Sorrow

Looking back on it now, I wish I had told our Dad what I was going through. He cared a great deal, but our Auntie had told us not to burden him with any of our troubles as he was already so grieved. But he was our Dad, and not relating our concerns to him just preventing us from bonding again following our Mother’s death.

He actually tried hard to do his best. Every day he made my packed lunch for me, and dropped me to school. He’d ask me how things were and how school was, but by this time I was so depressed I would just simply reply “nothing.” And soon, he stopped asking.

One night, it was particularly cold, I went into my Dad’s room to hang my up socks and undergarments on his radiator so they would dry by the morning. My radiator didn’t get hot enough, and I was tired of going to school wearing them still wet. I apologised to him for waking him, and told him they were the only ones I had. When he told me to buy new ones, it came to me as such a surprise that I still remember the feeling to this day – I was worthy of having new clothes!

Changing Personality

I had always been very sensitive, but because of the GAD, I now became hyper-sensitive. I started experiencing severe melancholy, despair and anger. To compensate for my lack of self-worth, and low self-esteem, I became over-reactive. I’d get irritated at the slightest things. I became argumentative and started getting upset and moody.

Furthermore, my low self-confidence resulted in me developing chronic fear; a complete inability to do anything on my own. I couldn’t go out unless someone came with me.

I had practically no sense of direction anyway, and now I felt absolute terror if I had to go anywhere alone; especially somewhere new; even going into a new shop our local high street was terrifying for me. In fact, the very thought of having to go somewhere new would send me into a complete state of panic.

My shyness turned into social anxiety disorder. I couldn’t speak to anyone I didn’t know. I would just simply clamp up. It was awful. Or I’d also do stupid things like ignoring people, and pretending I didn’t see them, even though it was obvious that I had.

I got labelled proud, arrogant, “schizo”, retard, all sorts of things. It hurt, and added to the overwhelm I felt. I felt ashamed to be me. The disillusionment turned into haplessness, and I started experiencing erratic and uncontrollable negative emotions. I’d get angry and and lash out at my family.

The melancholy made me become reclusive and I cut myself off from the few school friends I did have. I just kept myself to myself, on my own, staying awake when everyone slept, and sleeping when everyone woke. And thus the years went by…

Time to Move On

I spent most in this way. Feeling very lonely, feeling insecure, feeling frightened, and suffering from depression. I felt I was always on the outside looking in. As if no matter where I went, I didn’t belong. I never felt good enough to socialise. Even when I got to college, and I overcame some of my shyness enough to make friends. I still didn’t have enough confidence in myself to the student’s union events and parties.

But, all that was then; I was still a child… And this is now; and I’m an adult… Yes, every day situations can still seem like a struggle for me at times. And yes I often agonise over having to go places I don’t know. I still find myself becoming irritated and experiencing anger over trivial things…

But I am aware of all of it now. And I know when things become overwhelming, I need to give myself some understanding and ask for help. I don’t have to face everything alone anymore. Help is available and I am worthy of taking it.

And though I do still suffer from GAD, socialisation disorder, and a sleep disorder; I still have depression, and a tendency to become very melancholy about things from time to time. The difference is that I know what I’m feeling is a disorder, and I can take action to control it and to fight it.

You Don’t Have to Face Things Alone

Moreover, the most important thing is, that I know now, that having a disorder is nothing shameful. Although there may not be any cures, it’s not untreatable. There are several types of therapies available to help sufferers learn to adjust and cope with their conditions. No one has to deal with emotional problems alone. There are support groups that offer help and information.

If you suffer from any of the disorders mentioned in this post – please discuss it with your general practitioner who will guide you and be able to put you in touch with the right people. Friends and family too can be very supportive if we reach out to them. So if you feel you can approach a family member, you may find it can be very comforting to get understanding from within the family.

Just please always remember – you’re not alone. If you’d like to get in touch with me, just send me an email though the Contact page. I am always here for you.

With all good wishes to you. ‘Till next time…