Bridget Veltri
arts@mustangdaily.net
I’m nauseous, I can literally feel my heart in my chest, my hands and feet have gone numb and taking a breath feels damn near impossible. I am drowning in my own thoughts and the surface seems far out of reach.
Most people don’t understand the severe physical reaction the body can have from anxiety.
I’m often asked if I was a cheerleader in high school because of my bubbly positive demeanor. For the most part I’m your average, happy, easy-going college student. But every now and again anxiety rears its neurotic little head. I know everybody gets nervous sometimes for various reasons, but there is a difference between being nervous and feeling full on anxious.
I have been this way for as long as I can remember. I was the weird little kid that couldn’t stay the whole night at sleepover parties. But as time went on I became nervous less and less. I got pretty good at not sweating the small stuff. And I constantly forced myself to leave my comfort zone and seek out situations I knew would be difficult for me, like going away to college. Anxiety may have altered the way I physically felt but I was not going to let control what I did.
It eventually reached a point where my anxiety wasn’t a really an issue anymore, or at least I thought so.
But at the end of last spring quarter, I started to feel overwhelmed by life and I was sweating the small stuff again. I hadn’t felt this anxious since I came to college. I decided that I wasn’t up for forcing my way through it like I’d done before.
I began contemplating taking medication. I’d had friends with similar anxiety struggles whose lives had been changed by finding the right medication. It seemed so much easier, one little pill and I’d be worry free; turns out – not so easy.
I’d never had the desire to try medication before. I didn’t like the idea of relying on anything outside myself to remain calm. In my gut, I knew my anxiety wasn’t severe enough to need it. I was on medication for a grand total of three days. Needless to say, it was not for me. I felt drugged, incredibly tired and not myself. The last night I took it, I woke up at 3 a.m. more nervous than I’d ever been in my entire life. I called my doctor who advised me to just stop taking it, saying that it was probably just a “bad fit.” Yeah, no kidding.
My friends here were clueless about my past issues with anxiety. But even after I stopped taking the medication, it took the drug a while to leave my system. It was the first week of summer school and I was a mess. I hadn’t been open about my struggles in the past because I was afraid people wouldn’t understand and that I’d be labeled.
After my experience this summer, I decided I was over it. I told my friends about my history with anxiety and what was going on. I was surprised with the amount of support I received. I wasn’t met with judgment, but with genuine concern; they understood that it wasn’t my fault.
My buddies rallied. My friend Tina headed to Kinko’s to photo copy a meditation book that had helped her. My friend Allegra taught me how to surf, which helped me stay in the moment (when you’re a beginner it’s pretty hard to focus on anything besides paddling out, standing up and not drowning).
I admit there wouldn’t be medications like Zoloft, Xanax, and Lexapro if there wasn’t a need for them. These are good drugs have helped change the lives of many people.
And even though I had a negative reaction, in a way they helped me too. They helped me to be open about having anxiety and realize that I’m not the only one. Trying medication showed me that I didn’t need it and that there are alternative options that work better for me, like exercise, meditation, and counseling.
In a way, medication was the life raft that pulled me up from the depths of anxiety to the surface. Now I know I don’t need the raft. I can swim on my own.
Bridget Veltri is a journalism senior and a Mustang Daily reporter.