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Head Snakes

The Face of Anxiety

By madison murrayPublished 5 years ago 6 min read
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There was a time in my life when anxiety was never a part of my vocabulary. The concept just didn’t exist. Boy, do I miss that. Now it seems like anxiety is my morning, afternoon, and evening.

As my hands clutch the hands of an overpriced sofa chair, I find myself sinking deeper and deeper into the cushion as the doctor in front of me drones on about “exercises” that will get rid of my anxiety. One of those exercises is writing about how I’m feeling, so here we go, I’m finally giving it a try.

My anxiety made it’s first appearance about three years ago when my home life exploded like a toxic bomb. Dad left, mom crumpled, boyfriend dumped me... you’ve heard the story. ANYWAY, life was an intolerable shit show. A quiet person by nature, the only way I felt like I could cope was turning into myself and hiding away from the world. I hardly left my room, I couldn’t be in a social setting without wanting to scream, and life felt altogether pointless.

Ignorant me, not understanding the large spectrum of anxiety, went to the doctor’s office convinced I was dying. (Side note: Make sure you tell your doctor what’s going on in your life BEFORE you tell them how you’re feeling) I did not do this at first and was given blood pressure medication that only made me feel like passing out 24 hours a day. Once that was cleared up I was asked how life was going and completely broke down. Broke down so badly I was sent to the on site psychiatrist. If anyone is like me, this was a nightmare. Vocalizing trauma is like being tortured for information.

Finally, after some agonizing hours explaining how my life had turned upside down, I was prescribed the antidepressant medication Zoloft (Sertraline). I’ve attributed leaving a doctor’s office to leaving a store after you’ve bought something you wanted. There is a sort of elation for gaining something. When a doctor says, hey THIS is your problem and THIS is going to fix it, you let out a sigh of relief that maybe it will.

Little did I know.

Slowly but surely Zoloft dug me out of the black hole my life had pushed me into. I was finally able to leave the house and do the normal activities of life. I was a little more sleepy and always woke up at 3 AM, but I could accept it if it meant the anxiety beast was at bay.

Unfortunately, that’s all it was—at bay, waiting for the next open opportunity.

A couple of years went by in the same routine until I started to feel even more sleepy and zombie-like. The doctors visits started up again with talks of stopping medication, increasing doses, changing medication, or simply “dealing with it.”

Amid the chaos some blood tests were drawn and it turns out I’m hypothyroid... a fancy name for the tiny part of your body that manages almost everything, is malfunctioning. From sweat glands to energy to weight to emotions the thyroid is the captain. And mine jumped ship.

A new medication was added to my body, Synthroid, the hormone my thyroid is supposed to give me, but isn’t. Normally people are given a small amount and work up to larger ones, but I couldn’t even handle the smallest dose. This is where my anxiety found an opening to slither into. All the symptoms I’d experienced years before had come back full force.

My chest radiated pain and I could hardly stand to be out in public without having a panic attack. Needless to say I thought I was having a heart attack at 22. It was that unbearable.

After enough complaints about my symptoms to my doctor I went back in for a visit. More tests and EKG’s were done, all showing “normal.” I was told to lessen the dosage of thyroid medication, start tapering off the Zoloft, start Prozac, and wait it out. The worst words you can possibly tell a patient. Wait it out is not an answer, it’s a let’s cross our fingers and hope this works out kind of thing. It’s a “it’s all in your head” response.

Life started to even out again and I let out a sigh of relief. I had begun tapering off my 100mg Zoloft dosage in the span of one week and I was feeling better than I had in a long time. Like taking off a really tinted pair of sunglasses, the world started to come back into view. I thought, finally I don’t need you anymore.

I felt so good, in fact, that I decided against starting another antidepressant. I didn’t want to be someone who’s life was controlled by a drug. I needed it for a time and recognize that it is possible to live without. Doctors, friends, and family supported my decision. Things were looking up.

Fast forward to present day.

It had been about a month since I stopped taking Zoloft and the world is spinning out of control. It feels like my life is being controlled by someone else and I’m chasing them to get her back.

For the first few weeks after quitting the drug I had horrible nausea and upset stomach. I was downing Pepto like water. I couldn’t eat anything without feeling sick. This week has been the first where the nausea is non-existent, but another part of my body is being attacked. My head.

It is beyond frustrating trying to explain how you feel on the inside to someone, like a doctor, who only wants to see the outside. My body shows all the vitals of being 100 percent normal, but I want to scream that something is so very wrong.

Anxiety is a giant black snake slowly wrapping itself around your body. Slowly it slithers around your ankles and you start to feel like someone has attached cinderblocks to your feet. You start getting tired and lazy. Then the snake works it’s way up to your lower body, squeezing more and more as it goes. You start to hate standing up because you always feel like you’re going to faint. Your stomach is never settled and you can hardly eat anything. Farther and farther it goes until it’s encased your chest. Sharp, stabbing pains radiate across your chest and you can’t take a deep breath. Finally, the snake works its way up the base of your neck, through your ears, and into your brain. Your neck forms a giant crick in it that no amount of Icy Hot could ever fix. You start to lose your balance and everything seems off. Vertigo sets in and erases the equal from your equilibrium. Your head starts to throb without a headache. It feels like a giant cement block was placed on your neck. As the snake settles in to sleep atop your brain you convince yourself life will never return to a bearable state. You feel like you are looking in on your life as a bystander. A bystander watching this snake squeeze the life out of you and settle in with a smile on it’s face. No one can see the snake but you and everyone thinks you’re insane.

While the snake sleeps you Google all these symptoms into the search bar and gather a multitude of explanations hoping they could all fit, all but anxiety. How could it be him again? It doesn’t feel like before.

But he knows me so well.

anxiety
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About the Creator

madison murray

blissfully out of place

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