Anxiety is something that has been prominent throughout my life. My first panic attack was in the 10th grade and I can not explain the feeling that it left me with. It truly felt as though I was fighting against my own body- and losing. Outside of the occasional panic attack, I battle with general anxiety. My hands and feet always run cold because my body has not only convinced my mind, but also itself, that I’m dying. My heart is constantly pulling the blood from the unnecessary parts of my body (hands and feet) to my core because it thinks it is fighting to survive. Honestly, it is.

My anxiety mainly resides in my stomach and in my chest. When I get anxious my stomach goes 0-100 and the only thing I can compare it to is the feeling you get when you are genuinely scared for your life. Sometimes there is a trigger, but not always, which is when it gets bad. When there is no trigger there is nothing to talk myself down from. It’s just a feeling that I can’t get rid of and all I want to do is crawl out of my skin and escape. Sometimes I think it’d just be easier if it all was in my head, but that is just as much as a vicious cycle as I face.

In February of this year I started a treatment called Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation (TMS) therapy to help with my depression. Every morning before going to my office job I would sit in a small room with a big machine attached to my head. Throughout the 24 minute session the machine on my head would send magnetic pulses to the right side of my brain. This happened for 2 seconds every 20 seconds. For those 2 seconds I’d lose control of the right side of my face and arm, which would cause a spasm. Not only was it annoying, it was also painful. I was told there would be positive results within the first 7 sessions. Within the first 2 I was able to spot only negative ones. My anxiety was at a point I had never seen, and soon started experiencing extreme social anxiety. By the 10th session I had moved back into my parents home, lost the ability to drive, and could not go anywhere that wasn’t a medical obligation and certainly nowhere without my mom. I was no longer able to work and had to go on State Disability. When consulting with the main doctor at the TMS center I was encouraged to continue the treatment. They had never seen an adverse reaction before, though the technician did mention to me that when people had multiple diagnosis they could sometimes have a reaction that would cause an overexcitement of neurons and result with heightened anxiety. I quit the treatment. I could not risk the chance of me getting even worse. I have just recently moved back into my apartment, but still suffer socially. I am unaware if this side effect is permanent, or even if it’s been acknowledged.

I have tried meditation and I HATE it. Where I am in my life, my body possesses so much more power than my mind does. I am not able to be still, besides when I am sleeping (which is a nightmare in itself), without suddenly feeling like I am suffocating, trapped, and/or dying. I have also tried Xanax, Ativan, etc., which works but certainly comes at a cost. Not only is it addictive, it has comes with serious side effects. I am prescribed 1mg but can take 0.5-2mg depending on the situation. Sometimes, if I’m extremely lucky, I’ll catch the anxiety early and the 0.5 will help. More often than not I’m far too deep in the cycle that the only thing that will effect me is 2mg. When I hit that point I am down for the count. The Xanax makes me out of it and the only thing I’m capable of doing is sleep. Not only does it steal the rest of my day or night from me, it gives me a Xanax hangover which is THE WORST. So I typically do not take my Xanax because, lucky me, I get more anxiety thinking about how it’s going to effect the rest of my day.

When my anxiety isn’t paralyzing me, it sure as hell does not lay dormant. It makes a subtle appearance in every hour of every day. My lips are always chapped because I do this weird thing with my mouth that also gives me blisters on my tongue. My hands are as shaky as my grandmas which affects my ability to write and sometimes even hold up food to my mouth. My mouth is always dry from the anti depressant/anxiety meds I take in the morning.

Ideally I would like to come to a place where my mind is stronger than my body. Where I am able to talk myself down even when I can not pin point a trigger. A place where my breathing is just breathing and not gasps from the grasp my anxiety holds on me. To those who are able to find zen despite your anxiety, I envy you. But until I’m able to be there, I guess it’s just another day of Ali VS. Her Body. Game on.