ashweeeee’s blog

I lay in bed, sweating and shaking violently. My teeth chatter like a jackhammer uncontrollably breaking through cement. The reoccurring question stapled to my brain “Why is it happening again?” I didn’t understand what could have triggered my attack. I had locked all the doors, twice, and went through my nightly ritual. I was sure nothing bad was going to happen. No man was going to creep into my house and brutally chop my head off while I slept. What could have possibly made me this anxious to cause this response?

This has been the story of my life, especially since I entered high school, anxiety attack after anxiety attack. At first when I started to go through them I thought I was just getting sick. Then I noticed that they only occurred when I was extremely nervous or stressed out about something going on at the time. Now, every once in awhile, they will come out of the blue for no apparent reason. My attacks go hand in hand with my Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, which doesn’t help much either.

OCD doesn’t mean complete unhappiness and distress. For example the feelings that wash over me when I look at a beautiful, white, clean paper are unexplainable. To me that piece of paper is anything but plain. It is absolutely perfect with its perfect blue lines that are perfectly even and the perfect left margin that is perfectly outlined in a thin red, perfect line. It reminds me of the happiness and joy I get when I write with a brand new orange marker. The line that marker makes amazes me every time I use it. These are just some of the lovely emotions that come with having OCD.

When you don’t play by the rules that OCD and anxiety lay out for you, then you must over come the punishments you receive.  The trick of dealing with anxiety and OCD is waiting. You have to be able to wait out whatever your consequence is for not following through with your daily routine. During an anxiety attack you can’t control your self. There is no power off switch and there is definitely no speeding up the agonizing process. All that my body can do is wait for the horrible, creeping wave of tension to fully seize my body in its undertow. After each attack I promise myself I will not let what ever caused it, to happen again. I feel the need to be more cautious with my actions, but quickly come to the rational knowledge of not being able to control the fact that I will screw up again. Or catch myself before I make a stupid mistake, its inevitable. Also, I am an eighteen-year-old high school senior. I am constantly stressed.

Being patient and understanding is the best thing for someone who has anxiety. No matter what you do, you can’t stop their attacks from coming. Asking the victim the reason for having the attack doesn’t help anyone either. It causes more unnecessary stress that can eventually lead to another attack. So not only is it a waiting game for the person who has the disease, it’s also a waiting game for everyone around him or her. My friends and family do what they can to help out, but I don’t live in a bubble protecting me from the world, nor do I want to. In the end I feel like a little girl standing outside in the rain, waiting for her ride to finally take her home.