My Experience: The Truth About Anxiety Disorders

There was a time in my life not so long ago when the mention of “panic attacks” and “anxiety disorders” might have caused me to roll my eyes. You see, until about a year ago I was part of the majority of people who believe such conditions were euphemisms for a need for attention and weak mindedness. 

It makes me cringe with shame when I recall the time one of my best friends had a panic attack and I had to fight not to lose my temper with her as she sat hyperventilating outside a dingy nightclub.

In short, I had little sympathy for the one in ten people who are affected by anxiety disorders at some point during their adult lives until I became one of them.

I would give almost anything not to know firsthand how terrifying it is to have a panic attack – and how frustrating it is to have your life dictated by anxiety in general – I now realise that it is critically important to be open and accepting about anxiety disorders. I found it incredibly isolating when I tried to tell my family about my issues and was greeted with the exact same attitude I once had.

Anxiety can stem from many different things, from death in a family to the breakdown of a relationship or even an excessive workload. I’m still not entirely sure what triggered mine – all I know is that my first attack occurred 30,000 feet in the air at the beginning of a two hour plane journey. Although I felt no physical pain I was suddenly so terrified I was unable to let go of the arm rests or open my eyes for the duration of the journey. Once I arrived home, I almost forgot it had happened and did not suffer another attack for eighteen months. Panic attacks are often experienced by people only once or twice in their lives and I for one hoped I was part of that statistic.

However, last November, I began to have random heart palpitations. As a healthy nineteen year old with no previous medical problems I ignored this problem for a few weeks until it began to affect my sleep and I was barely managing four hours a night. Eventually I went to a doctor who diagnosed me with mild anxiety and suggested I tried breathing exercises and cognitive behavioural therapy.  The word ‘therapy’ made me uncomfortable, so I ignored the advice. After a couple of weeks the palpitations stopped and once again the anxiety became a distant memory.

After my exams finished, I moved to London to start work at a department store. On my second training day I recall feeling strangely uncomfortable and my heart sank as I began to recognize the warning signs of an attack. For me, these include twitchiness and a general inability to sit still, hot and cold flushes, nausea and the bizarre sensation that my brain is about to fall out of my nose. My mind was spinning and I kept on experiencing unpleasant rushes of adrenaline as if someone was continuously coming up behind me and giving me a fright.

I was sitting in an underground lecture theatre filled with one hundred and fifty strangers, most of them five or ten years older than me. The prospect of leaving the room mortified me, but eventually I ran out and found a bathroom. I have no idea how long I sat there, but eventually a woman from the offices above found me sobbing and hyperventilating and took me to their on-site doctor.

It took me about an hour to get my heart rate back to normal and for the nausea to subside. I was embarrassed, exhausted and extremely shaken.Two good things came of that afternoon; I was provided with genuine medical support and sympathetic understanding. This doctor made me realise that anxiety is a genuine problem, not a pretend one, and made me realize I needed help. Getting therapy is not, as I once believed it to be, the same as admitting defeat. On the contrary, it’s the only way to fight back against your demons.

Half the battle of overcoming anxiety disorder is understanding what it is. And that is, in so many words, your brain identifying a threat and sending messages to the rest of your body that will cause you to feel fear and discomfort, when in fact the situation requires you to feel neither.

I have had several minor panic attacks since returning to UEA this year. And yes, I often feel angry and resentful that it interferes with my life on a regular basis. It seems not only unfair but ludicrous that it has in the past prevented me from doing simple things like walking to campus or sitting through a two hour seminar.

I would not have felt able to speak out about what was happening to me at all without an incredibly supportive friend network. When I came out and discussed my problems with them it transpired that not one but three of them had been affected by panic attacks since starting University. Furthermore, researching the disorder as well as getting help from the University Counseling Service has made me realize that there is an incredible amount of advice and support available to anyone who needs it.