Living With Anxiety

“Even the simplest task can be overwhelming at times.” This quote by Rhonda Bodfield sums up a rather large reason why I struggle in school and everyday situations. Anxiety is the feeling that something bad will happen. Unfortunately, some people experience anxiety every moment of every day and have a very hard time controlling it, which can lead to attacks. Most people only experience it in certain situations that are stressful to them, but not to a large degree. Living with an anxiety disorder makes normal tasks harder and can be very detrimental to social activities. Firstly, having anxiety makes doing anything in school harder. Giving a speech or reading a paper out loud to the class are both things that I have to mentally prepare to

Moch’s class. My partner and I were assigned to make a commercial for a “new” product. Our time to present came up, and I was in charge of the PowerPoint. I stood behind the podium with the computer and tapped the “continue” button every time a change of slides was needed. I shook so bad I was barely standing; I felt my knees about to give out on me, and I could only be glad that I had the podium for support, or else I do not think I would have made it through without toppling over. Almost everyone gets nervous over delivering a speech or public speaking, but for me, it is on a whole other level of terror. I also refuse to ask teachers for help, even if I am struggling, so anxiety makes life way more of a dilemma than it already is. Maybe others think I am faking it, or maybe they think I am just lazy, but they do not understand the struggle in school for people like me. Speeches are hell on Earth for anyone with

This past swim season, for instance, we participated in a fundraiser at Station West. I feared it for months, knowing that as captain, I actually had to go this time. It terrified me, and even though I did not want to be scared of something as simple as waiting tables, I could not shake the fear. That Saturday finally came, and I drove to Station West as slowly as I could, hands in a death grip on the steering wheel. I wandered inside after trying to prepare myself in my Grand Prix, hoping the smell of my friend on a sweatshirt of mine she had worn would make me calm down. I can say it did a small amount, but it did not last long. I walked inside on trembling legs to where my dad was standing. He was working with me. He noticed how pale and scared I looked, and he mentioned maybe he could get someone else to work for me. I nodded shakily, thoughts of talking to strangers and taking their orders for hours racing through my head like blurs, and I broke. Breathing heavily, I tripped towards the door and practically sprinted to my car. Hands fumbled for my keys, struggling to press the unlock button, and I finally collapsed inside. Small things that someone else could easily do are much worse, especially if they involve strangers. I do not know why I struggle so much to do these kinds of activities, but it has made doing my job a lot more difficult, considering most people do not understand why. Even at my new