Crippling Anxiety in Therapy

I should start by saying, I have never been officially diagnosed with any mental illness. The only times I’ve ever even talked to mental health professionals were in family therapy when I was little, and most of that revolved around my brother. The last bit is probably the most important.
But either way, I am most certainly not neurotypical.
For the most part, I’ve been the same since I was a kid. I was quiet, shy, and picky. I was scared of talking to strangers but that’s just a kid thing right?
The first concerning thing happened when I was about 10 years old. Now before this, I ate fish pretty often. Your average cit of salmon or trout, but I also was a fan of sardines, especially in mustard, cured cod, or even fish jerky. It wasn’t a staple in my life but something my family had every now and again. I had also gone fishing once when I was little. I actually started crying after the other kids started bringing in fish because I thought my mom would be disappointed. But after that, I caught the biggest fish of the trip and they let me keep it even though it was over the size limit because it was basically dead. I was really proud, although I refused to actually touch the thing.
Anyhow, I had no problem with fish, in fact, I liked them.
But one fateful trip to Michigan would change all that. My family was visiting my grandpa the summer of my 10th birthday. My grandpa lives just off a lake and this particular year there was a zebra mussel infestation. It wasn’t too awful, but the shore and any boats or anything in the sand were covered in these little shelled creatures. The first few days of the trip we did actually eat cod. But one night, I woke up screaming. The way I remember it, I felt like I was on the ceiling looking down at myself. I couldn’t do anything but scream as tears ran down my face. My mom was laid next to me trying to calm me down but I must’ve not stopped until I had completely exhausted myself.
The next morning everything was different. When we went to the water, I couldn’t even think about touching the sand. My mom had to carry me as we walked on the beach and looked at shells. All I could do was look at the sky and watch the sunset.
Since that day I haven’t eaten any sort of seafood. It was really bad for the first few years, but the fear isn’t as overwhelming anymore. I haven’t been swimming in years either, but I’ve never been much of a swimmer. I still flinch looking at a fish tank though. This is something that isn’t too hard to avoid and really I can just laugh at myself at being deathly afraid of anything that lurks below the water. But it has been crippling a few times since.
A couple of years later we were back on the East Coast, this time in Maryland. We were visiting for a family reunion and just happened to be over there on my 12th birthday. The day started off great, my family made eggs, bacon, and toast and I have a photo of me reading a Hardy Boys and eating cake. I don’t talk to my family very often and I’m not fond of birthday celebrations, so I was content with how the day started. But as the sun began to set things got a little worse. My family decided to take me out for a surprise dinner. They didn’t tell my mom where we were going, and like I said, they don’t know me very well. If they did, they would know what I’m a picky eater, although pasta is always safe, and I don’t like restaurants. But of course, asking would be too easy. Instead, I watched as we pulled into the parking lot for a Japanese seafood restaurant. I remember my face just dropping and looking at my mom.
I tried to be brave and went in. Not only was it a seafood place, but it was one of those where they make the food at your table. I lasted until they finished sauteing some vegetables, as soon as the shrimp came out I couldn’t handle it. I felt physically ill and panicked of course. I would recognize this as a panic attack now. My mom took me out to the car with a plastic baggie just in case and we just sat for a little while. My family still sat inside and ate without me. And they had the audacity to bring leftovers so the whole car smelt of fish on the way back to their house. And I didn’t even get a proper meal out of it all.
Every year, my grade school would do these week-long “field studies” in which we would travel via bus and do a bunch of work. It’s like outdoor school from what I’ve been told, but we had a big graded project at the end of it. It was always fun in between the early mornings, hours of commute and hiking. My last one in the 8th grade was centered around marine biology. Now, this was probably the worst thing for me. 8th grade was rough for me, I was entering a really bad depression but I didn’t know what was wrong with me. To add to that, days of being surrounded by my biggest phobia was not something I was looking for.
I’ve never taken any more medication than a cough drop, but we went to my doctor to try and get something to curb my anxiety before the trip. My mom’s a naturopath, and of course, our doctor is also a naturopath so I didn’t get any pharmaceuticals. But I did get a tincture to help me calm down and I had to carry it with me the whole trip. Overall, the trip wasn’t actually too bad. There were moments that induced panic, but honestly, I kinda blacked out. I’ve noticed that when I’m in high-stress environments I feel like I’m just an uninvolved party sitting quietly in my body. I don’t think about what I say or do, I just say or do. And I don’t remember a lot, it’s almost like I was never there experiencing those things. I found a book of pictures from that trip and it really took me a moment to remember. Which sucks cause it was really a lot of cool things that I don’t really feel like I actually did.
Now things went from bad to worse in high school. I went to the same school from kindergarten to the 8th grade and I was really scared to move on. I was stuck in a depression, feeling ill and apathetic. I worried all summer and went to my first day of high school.
And it was actually really great. My closest school had it so freshman would have their core classes together, making it more comfortable. I actually had a friend from middle school in my core class group and we still got along really well. I talked to strangers and sat with people that I actually liked for lunch. My teachers were alright and my schedule was good.
But I couldn’t handle it. I lasted barely 3 days. My brother was already enrolled in an online school and I fell to that as well. But that particular school only lasted like a month. So I was “homeschooled” for a year.
I didn’t leave the house for most of the year. I didn’t talk to anyone but my mom. I wasted time online and slept too much. I don’t remember much; I really lost a year of my life. I was a mess, depressed and I could hide from all of my fears.
The next year I enrolled in another online school. This one actually worked really well for us. I was able to create some routine and managed to maintain good grades even when my mental health was fluctuating. I started talking to a couple of the kids in my neighborhood on occasion and they dragged me outside pretty regularly. It was at this point that I realized that there was something wrong in my head and that I could maybe actually deal with these issues.
After a year at my online school, my teacher suggested that I applied for the early college program. I would have been able to go to community college for my junior and senior year free of charge. However, I would have to go in a different city which was about a 2 hour bus ride. I actually applied for classes, but the Friday before class started I had another causal panic attack and dropped my classes.
Right after my 16th birthday, my friend and neighbor called me outside as she got home from school. She grabbed my iPod touch and basically filled out an application for the job that she had just started, making pretzels at the mall. I called my mom after almost crying telling her I applied for a job. I went for an interview, called the job, came for a second interview, got lost on the bus, and got a job.
I managed to graduate on time, completing my “high school career” in 3 years with a 3.9 GPA. I honestly don’t know how I managed that, but things worked out I suppose.
Now I’m 18 and in school again. I’m still at my same job and a full-time college student at my local community college. I was really worried that it would be the same as last time but I went through with it and I actually really love school. I have plans for the future, which is so surprising because at one point I didn’t think I would live past my teens. But despite all this good, I’ve been struggling a lot again lately.
The social anxiety is better. I’m a protective big sister and sometimes I get more anxious staying too quiet because I worry other people will be uncomfortable. I get weirdly germaphobic at times even though I don’t mind dirt. I hate eating in front of people. I hate public restrooms. I hate crossing the street when there are cars, I have literally walked down extra blocks to avoid making people stop for me. I hate feeling pitied but I so desperately want someone to talk to about all this. I pluck hairs from my legs to feel the sting, use a needle to pull at the skin under my fingernails and will pick at my fingers until they bleed. I have scars all over my shoulders from scratching at any slight texture. I’ve started hallucinating, seeing shines of light in my periphery or hearing someone call for me. I see distortion if I stare at certain things a certain way.
I thought I was getting better, but new symptoms are arising and I don’t know what to do about it. My willpower won’t let me break down in front of other people, but sometimes it just builds up and I feel so drained and full of numbness.
I’m lucky enough to be able to live in such a way that I don’t have to face my worst anxieties regularly. I’m a good employee, I’m good in school, I invest in my hobbies. But my anxiety stops me from doing so much. I feel content but I wonder what I might be missing out on.

Last updated May 20, 2018