Friday, May 20, 2016

The Often-Disguised Stages Of Anxiety

Anxiety is a terribly complex disorder. It doesn't sound it, of course. People are "anxious" all the time. They're stressed about daily life, work, deadlines, family, and everything else. But that's not anxiety (they could also have anxiety, but it's not a synonym for having daily life stress). Anxiety can be fueled, triggered even, by external events - i.e. social anxiety - but when it comes to General Anxiety Disorder, the cause is something internal, something physical and medical. Furthermore, anxiety can take different forms. It may look and feel a number of ways, and as with many other emotions, it goes through stages.

"Traditional" Anxiety:  By traditional, I mean the GAD symptoms most described by DSM V, and what most people generally recognize as anxiety. It involves intensive worry even when there is no apparent reason, and seems to underline most things that you do. It can be difficult to shake the worry, even though you realize it isn't necessarily warranted.  It makes every day challenges more difficulty, because it feels impossible for your brain not to jump to the worst possible outcome and become overwhelmed. It becomes difficult to prioritize, because everything seems urgent which, of course, increases anxiety further.

Fear: Fear is different than worry. It is almost a gut reaction, while anxiety is based in thought.  For instance, say you're invited to a party. Anxiety tells you, "They don't really want you there. You'll go and be all alone, standing in the corner because nobody wants to talk to you, and you'll be embarrassed and never be invited again."  Fear tells you, "I absolutely dread going to this party, but I'm not sure why." Imagine your dog (or other pet) as they see the door of the vet's office - or other place they dislike strongly - and put on the breaks, pulling back with all their might so that you practically have to drag them in. That's what fear feels like. Your dog isn't thinking "last time they put me on the scale and I was overweight and then I got that crappy diet of vegetables and half of my normal kibble and oh that blood work was awful." They're simply afraid.

Anger:  This is the one people don't talk about (politics aside these day, which I refuse to get into here).  People don't like to be angry. Not when it's not warranted or advantageous. They might flip off the driver that cut them off, but they don't want to be angry at the world, and especially at people they know and like, for no reason. They think it shows a lack of self control. They should just be cool and calm and relax. But they're wrong. Anger can serve a purpose. It can motivate. It's a guttural reaction that wells up from within ('I'm mad as hell and I'm not going take this anymore!") and can push people to discover abilities where they thought they were incapable. But often when tied in with anxiety, anger can fester. It may start slowly, as an annoyance and frustration that slowly intensifies, or, as mine sometimes does, suddenly appear out of nowhere like I'm a bull and someone's waving a red cloth in front of my face. And then it sits there. And sits there. And sits there. I'm angry at everyone and everything and most especially at myself for being angry without what I consider good reason. I'm angry at things that should maybe be small annoyances, at people for no good reason, at situations that previously were causing me some worry but now I'm downright angry. Much of my anger is a combination of hurt, fear, and feelings of "injustice". I deserved this and didn't get that. You aren't doing something I've begged you to and you know how important it is to me and that hurts. I'm afraid of this happening and I want someone to do something about it and they're not, so I'm angry. Some of it is frustration turned anger - often with where I hoped to be in several aspects of my life. I feel helpless, even though I'm not, because I don't know how to get from A to B- or C or D or Z -  or I know, but other people/situations aren't allowing it. I feel anger out of a loss of control (I know, I know, "let go of the things you can't control" and all that... the creators of that saying didn't suffer from anxiety, clearly).

Less anxious: Eventually, it becomes less rocky again. There's often still an undercurrent of anxiety but it's not flowing through my body intensely as it was before. I have my cycling disorder to thank for that - really, I cycle, so eventually, my body moves through each stage and I circle back to feeling better. Because anxiety mixed with hypomania and depression is even more terrible, and there's such a relief at not feeling these, that I finally take a deep breath and say "OK, I can do this." But it's important to note the "less" here. Anxiety, like mood cycling, can ebb and flow. If triggered, it can increase again. You just hope it doesn't flare up as badly as before. And it doesn't go away. It just lessens. It becomes more manageable, until the next bad bought, so you feel that you can function better. Perhaps it's that your sleep improves, or you're eating healthier or allowing yourself more decompression time, or even asking others for help with things (gasp! I'm terrible at this). But for whatever reason, it becomes more manageable again, and you take advantage of this as much as you possibly can, because you know it won't last forever, or probably even for long.

These are my experiences with anxiety, combined with my mood cycling disorder. Yours may differ, and not everyone may experience each of these, or with as much frequency. But it took me a long time to realize that each of these stages, if you will, was actually the same thing. I didn't have issues with excessive worry and fear and anger. I have anxiety. It morphs, it's fluid. It's tough to recognize when it does so, but knowing this helps. If nothing else, it helps me to know that if I just force myself to get through it, I will eventually get a reprieve, even if it's short-lived. And I just hope that sometimes, it's not. 

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