Anxiety is not a Scarlet Letter

 The last time I told someone that I took something for anxiety, I was kind of taken aback by the reaction and the alarmed look I got from that person.  I thought is there something wrong with me?  Obviously yes I have to take something for anxiety.  I felt like this person thought that I was so pathetic, it's kind of made me feel so bad the last month.  Like I should be put in a home for the anxiety ridden.  That's what anxiety does.  You feel like great, one more person thinks you're defective.  That's not fair.  It really crushed when I got that reaction. I went to my car and cried on the way home.  I felt like it was something to be ashamed of.

I was always a nervous kid and worried. I was born worried. I stayed up late and worried when I had tests.  I just thought it was the end of the world when I had a presentation.  My brain was just wired that way and I thought it was normal.

I was treated for depression first about 20 years ago.  Should have been sooner.  I wasn't eating.  I was in full blown panic mode because someone was hell bent on getting me fired and lying about me.  I was shocked that someone was so vicious.  I melted down in a doctor's office and started Zoloft.  I felt ok for awhile and I changed jobs.  Then I started feeling bad and the doctor I saw wouldn't listen and kind of felt put out by my questions so I changed and I switched to a different anti-depressant.  I was feeling a lot better and I got tired of the drug.  I went off by myself.  OH BIG MISTAKE.  I know that now.  I kind of needed a more consistent doctor and finally found someone I had for 6 years.  I didn't take any anti-depressants for awhile until maybe the 5th year I saw her.  She had actually prescribed the anxiety medication to take as needed.  Like other anti-depressants it seemed to not work for me after awhile and I kind of felt better after I went off them.  I was kind of doing ok just taking something when I needed it for anxiety. It wasn't an every day thing.  Sometimes it helped me with bad night of sleep.  Sometimes it helped me on a day that I knew would be stressful.  Sometimes it just helped.  I thought I was ok.

Even after cancer, I thought I was ok. I thought well I beat it. The doctors got it.  Things kind of got worse in a different way and finally the pandemic prompted me to ask for something.  I switched a couple of times but I always followed up.

I hate how people react to me when they find out that I take something or that I admit that I have problems with anxiety.  It's like I've been put on an island by myself.  People say they want to help and they don't help.  Talk is just talk.  Did anyone ever think how nice it would be to sit down and ask me how my day was?  Did anyone ever think that I would like to get invited to go for coffee, yes, I know I don't drink it but I'd still show to sit and have a conversation?  Did anyone ever think that maybe I am getting the help I need but I need the compassion and kindness of others that would make my day better?  No, it's just pat me on the head and pretend like you're the caring and compassionate person.

It really hurts me when people treat me like that.  It doesn't help . There's just something so dismissive.  I don't ask people for help or their friendship because at the end, people are too busy for someone like me.  

I'm on my island of anxiety.  I'm not less of a person.  

I have always been the shoulder people have leaned on and listened with patience.  I showed up when people needed me.

And when it's me?  I get crickets.  

Thanks a lot people.  

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