I only recently - the last few years or so - started revealing this to people. Not many would ever have guessed otherwise. Mostly, it's because I'm really organised, always in control, calm under pressure, and not afraid to stand my ground. I'm not typically shy or nervous. No one at work would have suspected because I'm super-efficient, I get my work done, on time - and take on extra responsibilities, without complaining or apparently struggling. At home, I balance the roles of wife, mother, sister, daughter etc. with being involved in lecturing on the side, helping friends with their businesses, serving at my church...
But sometimes that's exactly what anxiety looks like. This kind of "high functioning" anxiety allows you to be punctual, detail-orientated, proactive, high-achieving and passionate, all the while carrying the cost of over-thinking, ruminating, not being able to sleep, being afraid of saying no, being unreasonably busy, and a constant mental and physical exhaustion.
Sometimes there are big episodes - like a culmination of the constant.
Late in 2016, it wasn't until I had tried for months, without success, to shake the fatigue, listlessness and extra-poor health that I went to my doctor and was diagnosed with chronic anxiety, depression and burn out. I was medicated that very day...
Back in 2012 I was a first time mother, with a demanding newborn, stuck inside for weeks, alone at home, in the middle of a long and miserable winter. I was completely overwhelmed and under-prepared. While my heart was so happy for what I had, my mind was a mess with motherhood...
I can go back probably twenty years I'd say. Mostly though, it's in every day. For me, even at the best of times, you can still see it.
It's in the way that I need to have a detailed plan for everything.
How I have to be in control and check, double-check and triple-check things.
It's how I need to tap out when I'm overstimulated.
The way I snap at my undeserving children when I'm engulfed by my emotions. And then am overridden with guilt afterwards.
It's how I worry about everything. All the time. Even what I know I cannot control.
It's the intense buyer's remorse I feel over everything: from a huge decision like buying a house, to the mundane like getting. haircut
It's how I can't send a text message impulsively, and how I cannot resist the urge to immediately correct the spelling or grammar (or autocorrect) errors.
It's my deep over-concern for putting others out, and how bent out of shape I can get over a decision like changing schools for my kids.
It's an irrational explosion of emotion, and inexplicable irritation at things not done the right way.
It's my intense fear of failure. And that my children may be anxious like me.
It's a next-level dose of Sunday blues that sometimes begins on a Saturday.
Most obviously, you can usually tell by the pile of hair found next to a spot I've been sitting when I'm stressed.
I have been so blessed to have people around me who have identified this disorder, helped me deal with it, and not left me because of it. I have had medicinal and counselling treatment, and have discovered ways in which I can try get a handle on things for myself. I feel fortunate to have dodged the lure of substance abuse to cope, and am forever grateful for the grace that covers and spares me each day.
I'm know I'm getting better: I no longer have to hang the washing ROYGBIV, and I am surviving in a messy home (I could provably thank my three children for helping with that). I was forced to start prioritising, and had to eliminate things - even things I enjoyed - for my life to get a better balance. I've come a long way. And still have a long way to go.
I guess the point of this post is the following:
1. Mental Health Disorders are a real thing. There should be no shame or ridicule in that. It's not a less-than illness or something to be taken lightly. It's not something to "snap out of" or "stop worrying about". It hurts, it's debilitating and it can ruin - and end - lives. Just because you don't (want) to see it; doesn't mean it isn't there.
2. There are people fighting battles with depression, anxiety and other illnesses and conditions you cannot see and may not be aware of. I am one of them. Admitting that this is something I battle with doesn't make me weak or attention-seeking, or even limited in my faith. Rather, it is an act of courage, an empowerment and another acknowledgement of my need for a Saviour.
Please, do your bit to learn more about mental health. Know how to look for signs that someone you love may be struggling, and what you can do to help. Let's raise awareness and take this on together.
