Anxiety.
Maybe you’ve seen all this stuff floating around about the semicolon movement. Perhaps you don’t know what all the fuss is about over it… Maybe you think people drawing a semicolon on themselves or tattooing it on themselves is another ridiculous fad and you roll your eyes at the immaturity of it. Maybe you really don’t understand the significance.
There’s a movement that has been started that is shedding light on the severity and intense effects that living with anxiety disorder has on people. It’s called the “semicolon movement” this isn’t a fad, this isn’t some ridiculous thing that is meaningless and it’s certainly not immature. Anxiety disorder is very serious, yet so many who suffer with it, suffer in silence. Why you ask? Out of fear that it may show weakness.. As if someone who just feels completely consumed by fear and worry for reasons that they can’t even explain is a weak minded person or just a simple hypochondriac. This could not be the furthest thing from the truth. Anxiety is a disorder, it’s an imbalance and it’s not something someone can simply “turn off”. A panic attack or anxiety attack that strikes you so hard your body starts shaking uncontrollably, your heart is pounding out of your chest, sweat is pouring from your neck, your mouth goes dry, your hands go numb, your stomach is nauseous and you feel completely out of control of the feelings pouring out of you and the thoughts racing through your mind… These things are not made up, they are not weakness and they are not just your typical “being stressed out”… anxiety is all consuming. Everyone suffers from worry, doubt and fear. Everyone stresses out and may have random panic attacks every so often. That’s human nature. But not everyone suffers from true anxiety disorder and I think that’s important to point out. I think that’s why we’ve gotten to this place in our society where an anxious person is just another “worried” or “stressed” person. The truly anxiety-filled person has been grouped together with everyone else who just stresses out sometimes and worries about stuff occasionally. Thus, the severity of anxiety and its potential effects have been put on the back burner and have become something no one wants to help or be around. Our society has become so unbelievably selfish that instead of helping and supporting someone who desperately needs it people just decide they don’t want to be around the “negative” person. Let me be clear… Anxiety is NOT normal worry, it is NOT normal stress, it is NOT a choice and it is definitely NOT being a hypochondriac. It’s a constant fear, worry, questioning, uneasiness, being unsure, insecure, terrifying, lonely, completely consuming, sick, dark and drowning disorder. It’s life altering and to be honest it.really.freaking.sucks.
Not all anxiety is the same. It’s very personal to each who suffers from it. Everyone seems to have a different trigger.
I’ve never publicly shared my struggle, until now. I think it’s important to read for those who may not see an end in sight. It’s important to know that anxiety can be manageable and it can get better.
I have suffered from severe anxiety since I was 13 years old. It’s not something I’ve ever been to fond of sharing with people… it shows weakness, remember? Or so I thought. I’ve built friendships and relationships with people who never even knew I struggled with anxiety. I’ve dealt with full blown anxiety attacks by myself out of fear of the ones I loved thinking I was extremely psychotic. Anxiety gets into your head, it puts thoughts into your mind you never knew could exist and makes you feel ABSOLUTELY INSANE. You’re having all these thoughts and feelings and you’re scared, worried and nervous and you don’t even know why or how to stop it. You feel totally out of control of your own mind. It’s exhausting.
The person who has been with me through it all, my entire life is my angel of a mother. She’s been there since I was 13 years old and terrified to leave her side, terrified to be at school without her, terried I would lose her, terrified to go to sleep because I would be alone, terrified to be sick.
My trigger started as sickness.
Sounds crazy right?
My mother was diagnosed with breast cancer when I was 13 years old. My mom was and is my very best friend. The most influential, incredible woman in my life and at 13 years old I was faced with the realization that I might lose her. I saw her when she got the phone call confirming cancer, I saw her sick, I saw her throwing her guts up from chemotherapy, I saw her lose her hair, I watched her lay in bed pale as a ghost, I saw her cry, I saw her sitting in that chair getting chemo pumped into her body, I saw her unable to eat anything but ice cream and root beer. I saw this strong, healthy, beautiful woman I had always known become fragile. If I was sick, my mom wasn’t supposed to take care of me because she couldn’t be around sickness. I took care of her, I made sure she was comfortable and I made sure she laughed and smiled, I laid in bed and cuddled with her. I begged her to take me out of school just so I could be with her every single day, I begged her to let me shave my head so she wasn’t alone wearing wigs and scarfs on her head. I begged her to be okay and to survive. On the inside, at 13 years old I was absolutely freaking terrified.
I’m not blaming my mothers cancer on causing me so much stress that it gave me anxiety, not at all. But I do know something changed in my brain during all of it. That’s a pretty tragic thing for a 13 year old little girl who was attached to her mama’s hip to go through. I started associating all sickness with cancer, I knew cancer could potentially mean death.. Meaning I began to associate all sickness to death. This is where I believe it started.
Since then, my mom has been by my side, helping me every step of the way. She would sleep with me when I was little so I could actually sleep, she would stay up all night with me watching tv just to calm my nerves. She would pace the room with me holding a cold washcloth on my neck until my anxiety attack would pass. She would speak encouragement into me when I felt so lost and confused. She would bring me back to earth, every single time… And she still does. My mom is the only one who has witnessed how truly ugly and raw it can be. She’s seen me at my worst. She understand my worst. I still to this day pick up the phone to call her when I feel an anxiety attack starting.. And just like she always has, she begins to speak life into me again. Her gentle voice, her kind words, her reassurance, her belief in me… It brings me back to earth every single time. When I feel like I belong in a mental home, she makes me feel sane again and I am so unbelievably thankful for that. My anxiety became more than sickness, it became everything. Everything made me anxious, everything would stress me out and feel out of control but as I got older I learned how to better deal with it and I learned how to control it. I stopped having attacks all the time and I wasn’t so consumed by it anymore. I learned how to talk myself down from it. I learned how to cope with it and how to handle it, I learned how to live with it.
At 25 years old, I still suffer from anxiety. Every single day. After Avery was born it came back strong, rearing its ugly head. I’ve since had to learn how to manage it again and how to put a lid on it. It’s cost me friendships with people who don’t truly understand it and it’s caused insecurity inside of me, anger and bitterness. It has affected my marriage at times… I’ve lashed out at my husband, I’ve blamed him, I’ve caused arguments and strife due to it. I’m so unbelievably blessed with a husband who loves me unconditionally in all of my ways. Who hugs me and kisses me and accepts my apologies, who tells me I’m not crazy, who makes me feel safe, who doesn’t leave me, who takes the good with the bad, for better or for worse. God made him for me, made him capable of loving someone like me and I’m so blessed and thankful to have have him.
I used to question God’s reason for allowing me to suffer with anxiety, why he can’t just take it away from me, why I can’t seem to shake it. But then I discovered his purpose. God will allow us to fall to our knees so we have nowhere else to look to but up to him. I’ve prayed more, I’ve turned to God more now in my life than I ever have. I need him more now than I ever have, I trust him more now than I ever have. I find so much peace in prayer and knowing that with Jesus Christ, I will never suffer alone. Prayer covers a multitude of worries and fears and his purpose was to draw me closer to him. His purpose was to use this so that I may glorify him. I’ve never been closer in my relationship with the Lord than I am now.. And for that, I’m thankful.
Anxiety is real. It’s terrifying and it’s not talked about or supported the way it should be. Maybe if people would start to listen and start to help those who cry out for it rather than label them weak minded or just a hypochondriac, people could better conquer and defeat anxiety and depression.
That’s the point of the semicolon movement… A semicolon represents a place in a sentence where you could could choose to stop and put a period but instead you choose to keep going(;) you decide this is not how your story will end.
If you know someone who struggles with anxiety… Be a friend, be a support team, be a shoulder, listen and don’t run away from them when they need you the most. When everyone else runs from the “negative person” you be the one who stays. YOU will be the one who helps them and you will be the one they’ll remember❤️
momoftwolittles 