Holiday Check-In

Hey, all. Just wanted to check in – another attempt to use this platform and make discussions like these regular in my life. The response that I have gotten from my previous post has been incredible, providing me with not only a network of individuals that have both gone through something similar, but also connecting me with those who understand the liberation that comes with talking about mental health. Thank you all for taking the time to read my story and to hear my truth. The ability to cope with you all has been life changing. 

I have just completed my first semester of senior year at Creighton University. It is a bittersweet feeling knowing that my time in Omaha is coming to an end, but I am starting to see just how grateful I am for my education and experiences here. This semester, however, has not been full of sunshine and rainbows. It has been extremely challenging to adapt to my anxiety disorder with a busy schedule full of school and work – as well as a little bit of fun along the way. The word “balance” often feels like a mystery to me. We are told to find this “balance” in our day-to-day lives, but my journey in searching for this has been stressful. As someone who, thankfully, can function with my anxiety disorder at a high level, there were days where all of my tasks at hand just seemed too much. Taking days or time for myself and my mental health has been so vital in my journey these last few months – serving as a reminder that it’s okay to step away from everything. 

My anxiety still comes in many forms, but most intensely through thoughts about my existence, humanity and the world, and death. As my sessions with my therapist continue, I’ve come to the discovery that this existential angst actually lies within myself. My faith has taught me that everything happens for a reason and that we are exactly who we are supposed to be. Yet I am juggling with the question, “Who am I?” If anything, my anxiety has been stemming from months of personal growth and self-discovery - a growth into a more independent person. It’s like I’ve unlocked this door into my being. A door that I should not have the ability to open. A feeling that is so intense at times. I question my every breath, my bodily movements, my thoughts and my desires. It’s the overwhelming feeling and recognition of being alive. It feels as if I had been blindly wandering through our planet, and it just now hit me that I am here. It’s evident that over the summer there were many nights where I thought I would not wake up the next morning. My brain seemingly tricked me into having “near-death experiences,” which still terrify me to this day. Not only does it seem like these thoughts of death and my being persist through every moment of my life, but that I feel as if I shouldn’t be having these thoughts at all. That these thoughts make me inherently different from all of you. I'm too young to be thinking about my death. My gratefulness and appreciation for the life I live has caused me to feel anxious. I love life so much, in fact, that my brain wants to know more about why I'm here, what my purpose is, and what my existence truly means; all questions that have no answer - something my disorder cannot settle with. 

However, I survived the semester. I passed all my classes with soaring colors, didn’t skip a beat while working with Creighton Men’s Basketball, and managed to be present and engaged in all of my interactions with classmates and friends. But I’ve had bad days repeatedly. It seems as if it’s impossible for me to string together a week’s worth of great days. But it’s a part of my journey and my struggle. Joe Johnson, long-time NBA great, recently got the phrase “Trust your Struggle” inked on his upper-left pec and shoulder. I couldn’t have said it better myself. I’ve yet to fully trust my struggle. I’m still so frustrated that this disorder has happened to me. I’m so confused that I can’t fully explain to anyone why I’m so anxious without sounding like a lunatic – the aspect of anxiety that tries to convince your mind that you are actually going crazy. But I've used the resources around me. 

That being said, the people in my life have again and again provided a shoulder to lean on even if they recognized it or not. Whether it is me and my friends shooting the shit in the living room of my college house or being distracted by a friend in the library, these alone take me outside of my mind, a place that can often be uncomfortable and stressful to sit in. A simple check-in from a family member or high school friend may seem so unimportant, but the idea that I have people in my life that care about me goes much further than I actually comprehended before I struggled with my disorder. 

And as this check-in concludes, I thought I would share a little bit about the most difficult aspect of dealing with my disorder, and possibly a common theme for other individuals in your life struggling with mental health. Each and every day, it is a struggle to love myself - or accept this condition for what it is. I am so focused on getting myself better right now that I spend a large portion of the day thinking about my disorder – something that our society has taught us is “bad” or “needs to be fixed.” Yes, it is nice to hear others say how much I mean to them and how much they love me, but does it matter if I’m not even comfortable with who I am? This battle has only gotten easier from where I was a few short months ago. I’ve recently been reading Lincoln’s Melancholy, a book about how President Abraham Lincoln’s depression challenged him and fueled his success and leadership – an attempt to view my anxiety disorder as a positive in my life. I’ve found inspiration in music, specifically through songs about an artist’s struggles and strife and how they coped, reminding me that although I am the only one experiencing my struggle, many others in our world are going through something similar. I've also reexamined what I love most about myself and what I love to do - something we don't do for ourselves enough. All of these have helped me re-learn how to love myself.

As I was shopping with my family over Christmas break recently, I wasn’t talking a ton. My Mom asked me how I was feeling, making it seem as if she was concerned because I wasn’t engaged with my surroundings. However, I was having a great day – a day so great that I could sit with my thoughts, something I hadn’t been able to do for some time. I explained to her that on my worst days, sometimes being engaged is my only way out of my mind. And on my best days, sometimes sitting with myself and my mind is all I want. As my mother stared at me with a complexed look on her face, this is when I truly understood the mystery that is “mental health." It has so many different faces and symptoms. With many of you home for the holidays, I encourage everyone that reads this to check in on their loved ones. Be honest with yourself and your family if you aren’t doing well. Use the support and love that surrounds you every day. And even if you feel as if you’re denied from every Inn as Mary and Joseph were, there is a manger right around the corner. Thank you, all, for being my manger. 

Merry Christmas,

 B 

Dear World,

      Mind racing. Heart pounding. Am I dying? Is this really what my life comes down to? Will I see my family or friends ever again? Is God real? Am I real? What if there is no afterlife? I am so far from home. Oh my God, my heart is going so fast. Get up and move around. Try sleeping on the couch. It is so hot in this room. Why is it so hot? It's 4am - I have to be up in two hours for work! Go to bed! Did I die in my sleep? Is this is all a dream? Look at all these deaths in the news. Why is my heart skipping beats? You will die in your sleep. What is happening to me? Why do I feel this way? I'm fine just go to bed. THIS ISN’T REAL. 

         

 This is how I felt during my first panic attack, one of several episodes that have occurred in the past months. Anxiety, and at my lowest – anxiety-induced depression, is a fairly new battle for me. I'm surprised, to say the least, that something like this happened to me. A kid who is so blessed. So happy. So thankful for life. As I learn to grow and understand my disorder at a wider scope and with a more accepting attitude, this mental disorder had been growing and waiting for its moment to pounce. I have started to place little bits and pieces of my life together that crafted and curated a “perfect storm,” as my therapist calls it. 

I am six or seven. I just invited friends over from school to play with Legos or do whatever I was doing with my friends at that age. I had been having nightmares about my Mom being kidnapped or that I would wake up and find that my parents had disappeared. That day, in particular, I refused to go down to the basement. Rather, I sat at the top of the stairs and watched my Mom in the kitchen, making sure that she would not get taken from our home. The nightmares soon passed, and the fear was over. I thought nothing of it.

I’m in middle school. I’ve started to play sports and become engaged in SportsCenter and ESPN. I wake up early every Saturday morning to watch SportsCenter and College Gameday in the fall. I was feeling under the weather for a while and I knew I was starting to get sick. There is a swollen lymph node on the back of my neck that I had never experienced – a regular symptom that comes with viruses and sickness. As I sit there on a perfect Saturday morning, a segment about a young high school football player battling cancer comes on the screen. Particularly, this young man had a bump so large on the back of his neck that he could not fit his helmet on his head - one of the indicators that he needed to see a doctor. As I take this content in, my body shuts down. I have no idea what is happening. I lay in the top bunk that my brother and I shared while my parents come in to say "Goodnight." I am not saying a word to them, laying motionless in my bed. Out of nowhere, I burst into tears. I tell them, "I think I have cancer." After a quick trip to the urgent care the next day, I was diagnosed with strep throat. I assumed I was overreacting. I thought nothing of it.

WebMD has been the modern fuel for my anxiousness throughout high school and college. The easy access, in-depth research provided by licensed professionals, and home-remedies for symptoms can be handy in certain situations. Not with my brain's wiring.  I have an intense history of misdiagnosing myself with a serious illness and am constantly reminded by my friends that I should stay away. Yet I didn't  – but I thought nothing of it. 

The final and most unbearable moment came this past summer. As I am preparing for my internship in Boston, my anxiety is telling me that something bad is going to happen at home or in Omaha while I am gone. I didn’t know what it was going to be, but I wouldn’t be there to help in any way. As the summer begins to progress and I start to get settled in a new city, my anxiety now starts to trick my brain into thinking that something is wrong with me. I have a nagging ear issue that would not go away. Was this the “tragedy” that I had thought was going to happen? Turns out, it was a common jaw disorder (TMJ) caused by stress and anxiety. After a trip to an ENT doctor, most people’s minds would be at ease. Mine was not. I thought the doctor did not do enough testing. My anxiety ramps up. I think I am dying. I now drive the long way home because I thought it would be the last time seeing the sunset. I celebrate every morning because I wake up. I imagine my family and friends at my funeral. My life is flashing before my eyes - an extremely surreal sensation. I believe that these notions would soon leave like my previous bouts with nightmares in my adolescence. But they didn't.

 I now find myself no longer able to control my thoughts. It felt as if I was losing my mind entirely. I start to experience the “worst-of-the-worst” anxiety. I no longer think anything is real, telling myself that this was all an illusion in my head. These thoughts then lead me to question my actual reality and aspects of who I am. What is this place? Where am I? What am I? "Existential Anxiety," as they call it. I’m now trapped in my head. The anxiety is telling me that I need to go to a mental hospital. I can no longer focus on a simple TV show, book, or even my day-to-day tasks at work. Would these thoughts ever end?

I return home from Boston at my lowest place. I have one more doctor’s appointment for my ear and I tell myself that all of this anxiety and medical stress will go away after I got a proper diagnosis. Dead wrong. I get the same opinion from the second doctor that the first ENT gave me. I went home, extremely sad and defeated. Why did my brain do this? Hopelessness overcomes me. I firmly believe my mind is never going to get better. I can’t eat anything. I don’t want to get out of bed. I'm unable to sleep and haven’t been sleeping well for quite some time. I decided that I couldn’t handle this storm by myself anymore. As I walk upstairs from my room, I sit in the family room and sob uncontrollably. This was the final straw - a cry for help.

It took 21 years to finally figure it out. With this new revelation of my anxiety disorder comes a rush of feelings. I feel sad. I feel different. I just feel off and disconnected from the rest of the world. Some days, it sucks. Absolutely sucks. However, I am so fortunate to have the support system that surrounds me every day. It is a blessing that I have found family and friends that encourage me to talk and made me feel comfortable enough to admit that I was in a place where I needed assistance. Some people don't have this feeling. Some people believe they have no one to talk to. However, talking saved my life. 

Here I am now, back in Omaha and at Creighton – in a better place than I was yesterday, last week, and last month. The quickness of this disorder is frightening. How can people live with this for their entire lives? But I am coming to peace with the idea that I am still normal. I didn’t change. I'm still 'me.' Although my struggle with anxiety is not unique, I believe every case is drastically different. The thoughts people have. The way they cope. How they act. What they choose to share. My coping is centered in remaining 110% myself, fully embracing this roadblock in my journey, and simply telling my story. Anxiety, if used correctly, is what makes individuals successful. Stressing out over an exam. Making sure to apply to that internship you wanted. It's human nature. I now view it more positively than I ever could have imagined three months ago, a bit from my cognitive-behavioral therapy practices that has helped tremendously.

In my opinion, I truly believe some people think I am bluffing about this whole ordeal. To the ordinary eye, nothing about my life or my personality has changed. I don't spend hours alone in my room. I'm able to get out of bed and go to class. I go out with my friends on the weekend. What people don’t see is that, at this moment, it takes every cell in my body to not let this thing defeat who I am. The anxiety medication coupled with the extra effort it takes to maintain my humanity makes me feel exhausted by day’s end. But it feels refreshing. I feel brand new. I wouldn't have it any other way.

In working through my struggles with my therapist here in Omaha, we have come to the conclusion that my anxiety is largely caused by the future; the unknown. I have no idea what I want to do with my life. I don't have a full-time job lined up. I truly don't even really know what I want to do for my career. And as the thoughts of the future loom over me, I start to remember that I have to leave Creighton and college at the end of this school year. These last three years have been the best years of my life. I won't be surrounded by my amazing friends at every second of the day. I'll have to leave the jobs, clubs, and organizations that I have grown so passionate about. I won't be able to pop into St. John's church at midnight, the place where my faith was restructured and enhanced. I know that I am exactly where I'm supposed to be and who I'm supposed to be when I am at Creighton. However, I constantly remind myself that I made Creighton and my college experience the best years of my life. Who says that I can't make the future ten times better? 

My disorder has caused me to question every aspect of my life, human existence, and even what my purpose is in this world of ours. It has even attacked my faith. This "existential anxiety" controlled the latter half of my summer. But what I realized is that I can control my thoughts. I am in control of my life. To remind myself, I have 2 Corinthians 12:10 tattooed on my left wrist. It reads, “That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, I am strong.” For the rest of eternity, I now have a small reminder that weaknesses and struggles are a part of God’s plan for me. What started as asking God, "Why me?" has turned to, "What next?" "What do You want me to do with this bump in the road?" This is part of my purpose and my story.

As young men, we are told that this kind of mental illness and disorder does not exist. "Be tough." "Don’t show emotion." "Talking about your feelings is soft." I’ll admit; I used to think this way up until my own battle came to fruition. I was so ignorant to these disorders that I thought I was above them all. But anxiety doesn't have criteria for its candidates. It can happen to anyone. We need to change our thinking. We need to be open with each other. Although our country has made huge strides in the last decade, there is still a tremendous amount of work that needs to be done to break the stigma of mental illnesses and disorders. I’m not sharing my story in search of a pity party or sympathy from anyone. In fact, I would prefer that I was treated like this whole ordeal never occurred. Rather, sharing this furthers my progress in accepting the normality of these conditions. It brings my anxiety disorder into reality, something that I struggled with for the longest time and something that people all over the world wrestle. I’m inspired every day by individuals that are vulnerable and open with their battles, leaving their doors open for the world to see. I encourage everyone to be open about stress, anxiety, depression, and even the little storms that can plague your day-to-day life. Your family, friends, therapists – and even safe dosages of medication can be so beneficial. We are imperfect beings living in an imperfect world. It happens. It is normal. It is a part of life. It is a part of you. It's a part of me. It does get better - trust me. Talking saved my life. So, let’s talk about it.