Living with Anxiety: What I Never Expected

For the past few months, I’ve been dealing with anxiety. It’s not new to me in the sense that my partner has suffered from it for years, and I have friends who also struggle with it. I always tried to empathize, but I never fully understood how debilitating it could be until I experienced it myself.

It’s hard to describe anxiety to someone who hasn’t felt it. The heart palpitations, the sense of impending doom, the sudden urge to cry or panic for no apparent reason. It’s like a storm in your mind, convincing you that the world is against you or that something terrible is just around the corner. At times, it feels like you’re on the brink of collapse or worse.

For me, anxiety is even scarier because I already have high blood pressure. When an anxiety attack hits, my fear of having a heart attack or stroke sends me spiraling into full-blown panic mode. Sometimes, I’m even afraid to go to sleep, worrying that I might not wake up. It’s a vicious cycle that’s hard to break, and the fear itself feeds the anxiety, making it worse.

Anxiety attacks don’t just affect my emotions—they take a physical toll as well. During worse episodes, I experience muscle spasms, headaches, nausea, and a complete loss of appetite. It’s incredibly hard to focus on work when I’m in pain, but I try my best to remain professional, especially during meetings. I’ve had to power through the discomfort and find ways to make up for lost time, often working nights and weekends when I feel capable.

I’m grateful that some of my clients are also friends. They’ve been understanding and don’t demand too much, which has been a blessing. Their kindness gives me a bit of breathing room to manage my work while navigating these challenges.

Social interactions have become especially challenging. I don’t want to meet people or engage in conversations that feel shallow or revolve around gossip and complaints. Those were already draining even before the anxiety, but now they feel unbearable. Instead, I’ve found comfort in spending time with empathetic and positive people. Even if we’re just sitting in silence, their presence makes me feel cared for, and that’s enough to recharge me.

One thing I want people to understand is that anxiety (and depression) doesn’t always stem from obvious triggers like a bad experience, hurtful relationships, or work stress. Sometimes, it just is. I’ve always been a positive, playful person, vibrant and full of energy. But that version of me feels like a distant memory. I miss her too, but I know I have to take things one step at a time.

Admitting that I’m struggling with anxiety and depression hasn’t been easy. I hate feeling vulnerable, and my default reaction is to bottle everything up. But I’ve realized how unhealthy that is. I don’t want my friends or family members who are going through similar struggles to feel the need to do the same.

For me, writing has always been a way to release that pressure. Whether it’s journaling or blogging, putting my thoughts into words helps me make sense of the chaos in my head. If you’re reading this and it resonates with you, I want you to know that you’re not alone. It’s okay to feel what you feel, and it’s okay to seek help or find your own way to cope.

We’re all works in progress, and that’s perfectly okay.