Generalized Anxiety Disorder

What's it like having Generalized Anxiety Disorder?

I am tired all the time. Literally, all the time.

When I wake up in the morning, it's not actually morning. Since the pandemic started, my wake up time has been gradually becoming later and later. Right now it's standing at around 2pm. Not having a job to go to certainly has encouraged me to stay up later and later at night, but it's not for the reasons you might think.

I don't stay up late reading, or watching Netflix, or playing games, or texting people. I actually "go to bed" at a reasonable time, usually somewhere between 10pm and 11pm. So why do I stay awake until 3, 4, sometimes 5 in the morning?

Anxiety. That's why.

Even when I do fall asleep, I wake up constantly. It's been so long since I had a decent sleep that I can't even remember what it feels like to wake up rested. When I finally do get up, I am legitimately ready for a 3 or 4 hour nap, which I resist because what kind of lazy person does that?

But I'm not lazy. It's a label that's put on a lot of people with mental illnesses who are, in fact, not lazy at all. What we are is EXHAUSTED.

Mentally. Physically. Emotionally.

If asked, I would have to say that no, I don't feel exhausted. But that's because I am so used to being so stressed and tense and tired that it feels normal to me. I can no longer register the feeling of exhaustion because it's my permanent state of being. Throw in anemia from iron and B12 deficiencies and bouts of depression, it's amazing I have the energy to do anything.

There was a time back in August where a trip to the emergency room gave me the rare opportunity to experience a lapse in anxiety. I, like many people with anxiety disorders, have perpetually high blood pressure. My doctor can't even get a clear idea of what my blood pressure actually is because I am so anxious about getting a high number that, you guessed it, it ends up being high from anxiety. So when I took my blood pressure at work one day with an at-home reader I bought from Amazon and saw the highest reading I've ever had, I felt like I needed to go to the hospital.

I feel it relevant to mention that at this point I was unmedicated. This was after the first lock down was lifted and I was back at work. I took the first lockdown as a chance to get off of venlafaxine (Effexor) because the side effects were giving me very bad anxiety. So under my doctor's supervision, I weaned off of it and didn't have to worry about working while the withdrawl side effects gripped me for almost 3 weeks. So when I went back to work, my anxiety took hold of me due to working in retail during a pandemic and dealing with the absolute worst and rudest people I've ever encountered (and I've been in retail a LONG time).

While waiting for the test results (they found nothing of concern), I was given a dose of lorazepam (Ativan). For the first time, the anxiety melted from my body like I've never felt before. I could not have cared any less about anything. I practically floated out of the hospital and jaywalked (something I NEVER do) to the parking lot to find where my mother was parked.

It stayed in my system for the rest of the day and that night I slept so good that I'm afraid I may never experience that again.

But the realization of how intense my anxiety really was didn't hit me until the lorazepam wore off and the worry crept back in. I was now glaringly aware of how tense I was, how anxious, how much I overthought everything, because I had existed in a space of time where none of that was happening.

So I took another one, desperate to feel that relief again.

I had a phone appointment with my family doctor shortly after that, and she wasn't very happy that the hospital had given me a prescription of 7 lorazepam pills to take home. She expressed strongly that they are tranquilizers, and that if she'd given them to me, she would have only given me 3 for emergency anxiety situations. She warned me that they can be addictive.

The next day, I took yet another one.

It was at that point that I understood what she was talking about. I'm sure that the drug itself can be addictive, but what I craved when I took them was the anxiety relief. I decided then, when I could feel that need crawling under my skin, that I wasn't going to take any more of them. So far, I have stuck to that. After a few days I no longer wanted to take them.

So I ask again: What's it like having Generalized Anxiety Disorder?

It's worrying about everything, all the time.

It's having a brief moment thinking that being addicted to Ativan might be a better option than dealing with my anxiety.

It's obsessing over every little sensation your body has - Oh, a slight pain in my stomach? It must be my liver failing. Oh, a bruise? I must have a rare bleeding disorder. Oh, my heart rate is higher today. I must be about to die. Oh, my scalp is itchy today. Maybe it's a rare symptom of a deadly disease that doctors won't figure out I have.

It's being too afraid to make plans for the future because you think you won't live long enough to have one.

It's being afraid of food because too much salt is bad, too much sugar is bad, or is it fat that's bad? But wait, what type of fat? Are all kinds of sugar the same in the end? Fructose vs Glucose vs Sucrose. Saturated fat vs Unsaturated fat. Animal products? Veganism? Am I getting enough iodine? Selenium? Oh, I should take iron supplements because my doctor told me to and I am anemic. But too much iron is bad. How much is too much?

It's having rituals you have to do or bad thing x, y, or z will happen.

It's thinking all of your friends secretly hate you.

It's feeling never good enough for anyone, especially ourselves.

It's not knowing what self-love truly is.

It's being afraid to be happy because that will trigger the other shoe to drop.

It's being labeled as crazy, irrational, overly emotional, the list goes on and on.

It's being asked if you "took your pill" whenever you get angry or upset because, clearly, any time we express we're unhappy with a situation or a person, it must be because we're not medicated and losing our grasp on reality.

Generalized Anxiety Disorder is relentless. Sometimes quietly, sometimes deafeningly loud. It can't be solved by merely willing it away. We know our fears are irrational and make no sense, but we still can't stop them. Do you know how exhausting that is? To KNOW what you fear is ridiculous but not being able to convince yourself of that?

The best way that I've ever had anxiety explained was on a random Facebook post I saw years ago. I have no idea who originally came up with it, but it said:

"Anxiety is like when video game combat music is playing but you can't find any enemies."

So when someone with GAD (or any other mental illness) says they want to take a nap, don't judge them.

They are tired. We are all so, so tired.