My Age of Anxiety
A true story
It began with the childhood obsession, “Don’t step on a crack.” Sixteen years later, I fell into that crack. I’d awakened, badly hungover, at three in the morning, and begun thinking, “What if I go insane?” In the past, this thought would have been fleeting, and a moment later I’d have been on to something else.
Not this time.
The more I thought about it, the more I feared it would happen. A radioactive fog enfolded me. I broke out in a sweat, drenching my sheets. I kept ordering myself to stop thinking about it, and failing utterly.
Two hours later, I waited for the Pantry Diner to open, then sat down and ordered my usual. Buried my face in a paperback, only half comprehending the words. Glanced around, wondering if the regulars could see my psychosis. Made a feeble effort at humor with my server. She smiled. Good, no weird looks. Not completely crazy—yet.
From then on, my secret mantra was, Maintain control at all costs. No one must know I was on the verge of madness.
Not going insane was exhausting. Sometimes I’d think, I should just let it happen. But, no, that would be insane! I’d go to a movie theater worrying that I’d suddenly feel compelled to run into the aisle and start screaming. I’d get caught up in the movie for awhile, but then the thought would return. No! I’d shout in my head, No!
When I drove, I’d think, What if I suddenly veer into oncoming traffic? I’m OK with dying, but all those other people!
Fight or flight syndrome. I’d heard the phrase, but hadn’t realized it could happen entirely inside my head. I mean, there was nothing to fight with, nothing to flee from. There was just me. And I couldn’t run away from myself. Could I? God, if only I could!
I finally told Dinah, the tall, stormy beauty from the party. We’d begun dating and become increasingly committed. To my shock, she embraced my fear. She had plenty of her own, she admitted, and mine made her feel less alone. I was dating Jonnie 2.0!
But then I began thinking, What if I go crazy and kill Dinah? I obsessed over this for months, fighting to keep the thought at bay, but finally confessed my hideous fear to her. She laughed out loud. “Are you serious? I weigh eight pounds more than you. I’d beat the shit out of you!”
Instantly, my fear of harming her vanished. Here was a fear I didn’t have to control! It was my first glimpse of a light that would invade not only my darkness, but Dinah’s as well.
But not yet.
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Those thoughts would have been awful. It’s good that you had support when you decided to speak of them.
Indeed. Thank you, Liz.
I really appreciate the honesty of your stories of your past. It will help others who are now where you have been. Blessings.
Thank you, pcv (afraid I don’t know your name). That’s why I write them.
My name is Pete. It is a blessing, there are so many broken hurting people out there who can benefit from our experiences. Bless you Mitch.
There are indeed, Pete.
I can relate to the feelings and thoughts you described here. I was in a similar situation when anxiety attacks caught me off guard several times a day. I thought I would go crazy and hoped I don’t completely lose my mind. Thank God, I found the solution for my problems and today, I am good. Thanks for sharing your story. It helps every affected person to no longer feel helpless and alone with the problem.
So glad you were able to move past that experience, Erika.
Thank you, Mitch!
Absolutely understand all those thoughts, Mitch. Glad I’m not 20 something anymore. Too much anxiety. Now when I have anxiety I know I need to keep talking to God. He sets me down on a better path.
There is such strength in accepting our fears, instead of fighting them. This is a wonderful example of this..
Thank you, my Anonymous friend.
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