Anxiety?

How many of you experience anxiety? I would think pretty much all of us have had an episode of anxiety at least once in our lives.

It is normal for us to react when life throws us curve balls (for example, trying to study for that test that you need to pass in order to get your license). Man, it can be nerve-wrecking!

But what happens if anxiety is here, everyday in our life, and there is nothing you can do to stop it?

I've been trying to do some reading to see what category I fall under. Call me the Google Doctor because, hey, we've all done that once in our lives too. Self-diagnoses.

I've had random anxiety episodes depending on what I was experiencing in life: work, interview, exams, first date. The usual stuff. They always go away after I get a result and then I feel better. But this feeling, it feels way different.

Let me break it down for you on what I've noticed:

November 2015. The month that never was the same ever again. When M died, it was like my world collapsed. I couldn't think. I couldn't concentrate. I just kept being sad, cried, and blamed myself for not helping him. A few days prior to his passing, mom had noticed his breathing was a bit off. She's mostly always home with him so she was able to tell right away something seemed a bit off. She asked me if I noticed anything.

I said maybe a little, but nothing too concerning.

He had positioned himself in a way that allowed him to breathe a bit better. But nonetheless at that time, I was preoccupied with other pressing issues that I didn't get to really notice huge differences.

Few days later, he passed from congestive heart failure. The breathing was a sign of CHF.

To this day, I still feel that guilt that I was unable to save him earlier. The "what if" we had gotten him earlier and started medications to help him? Lots of what ifs. And it eats away at me every single day.

After his passing, it really made me fear losing my loved ones. I worried about them everyday. What if I went to work and then never saw them again? What if they went shopping and something happened to them on the way there? What if they never got back from their party? What if what if what if. It was endless.

I would get flashbacks to M's last moments, of him struggling to breathe, and hearing his last breath. I would have an emotional and mental meltdown because of that flashback. It would replay over and over again each time I went through something worrisome. I would cry, feel guilty, cry some more and eventually recovery momentarily. Then carry on with the rest of the day to the best of my ability.

It has been an endless cycle since November 2015. I thought time would heal. Maybe it's not time yet but the flashbacks come and go. There is no specific trigger that leads to flashbacks. They just happen. Sometimes I would be arguing with a friend or family member, and then the flashback would come. There are many times I would try to sleep at night, and the flashbacks happen. Then I'd cry and it would be hard to fall asleep because it's on my mind.

Flashbacks happen at work too. I could be sitting there, doing my job, talking to clients, then get a flashback and then I'd burst into tears. I try to hide it though because I don't want people to see me in tears. But it happens. One time we talked about family and how much it meant to him. That triggered my anxiety about my parents.

I took a second job for many reasons. To prove that it was possible to have a full time and part time job. To show that I was capable of handling it. To get more experience. To compare my experiences in two different corporations. To gain more knowledge in various corporations. To make more money.

What I haven't told people is that I did it to keep my mind busy from all the sad thoughts I experience on a daily basis. To direct my mind to something else.

However, I could work 5 jobs and still be in the exact same position: flashbacks, anxiety, mental meltdown. Why is that?

Because of guilt. I have accepted that M is no longer here anymore. But I haven't accepted that there was nothing I could do. I still have that guilt that I could've done something, or wished I could've done something earlier like listened to mom and followed up on her concern.

But I didn't. Because I was preoccupied with another problem, and trying to solve that problem.

The only thing I can try to compare it to is your loved one collapses on the floor, from a cardiac arrest. You can stand there and watch the life slip away from them, or you jump in and start compressions right away. And you keep doing it until that person comes back to life. When I think of the situation, I felt that I was the person who just stood there and didn't do anything until the last minute. Nothing was done until the last minute, when it was too late.

Everyone has told me there was nothing I could have done to prevent his death. That he was just old and suffered "old people problems" so it was that time to go. Even if I took him in a few days earlier, he wouldn't have survived for long. I understand that. The problem in my eyes is the action of doing something. It's the lack of action. If I had taken him a few days prior to get him checked out, maybe just MAYBE something could've been done. That's an action. THE action that I SHOULD'VE done.

If I had done that and looked back at it, I wouldn't feel as guilty because I knew I tried my best to save him but couldn't. This is the underlying issue.

Nowadays I worry a lot about family. About losing them, or losing friends. I worry about housing prices. I worry about my jobs. I worry about not being a good parent. I worry about not being a good wife. My life is now surrounded by worry.

Those who do know me know I'm a worrisome person. I apologize a lot even though I don't have to. But this has consumed me for the past year. I know it's not my normal behaviour.

I've noticed I've felt more sad. Not depressed. I don't feel suicidal or have any suicidal thoughts. But I definitely do feel sad because I've lost M. The sadness and guilt have consumed me to the point that I worry about the loved ones around me on a daily basis. And it's all I ever think about.

My sleep has been all over the place. Could be due to my shift work hours too, but as mentioned above, when I try to sleep, I start to worry and then a meltdown occurs. There have been times that I could feel my heart racing. Normally my resting heart rate is about 50-60 beats per minute. When I get those anxiety attacks, it doubles. My blood pressure is on the low side (about 95 to 105 systolic with a diastolic of anywhere between 55-65). If it goes to 115/75 or even 120, that's when I can feel my body stressed out. It might seem low to people, but I've been blessed with the lower end of the normal blood pressure range, so that is considered high to me unfortunately. I just start to feel unwell. Thankfully blood pressure has been ok, but it's the heart rate that I've noticed has increased lately.

If someone were to ask me how my sleep has been lately, I will answer not very well. I go to bed at 4am, sometimes close to 5am, and wake up at 11am or 12pm, eat then go to work. Or I stay in bed all day and not do anything except Netflix. I'm always tired, yet my natural adrenaline keeps me going.

I used to enjoy and look forward to doing things, but it hasn't happened this past year. Sure yeah shopping trips help. But I'd look online first to see if I like anything. If I find something, I'll go and pick it up. Then head straight back home. I don't enjoy walking around the mall anymore. It's like a chore to me these days.

I haven't seen many friends lately. Most likely because everyone's busy. And probably because I haven't taken the initiative to ask for a get together. But it is Christmas season. There are gatherings. I have seen pictures. I'm always working. They just don't know what battle I'm fighting because I didn't reach out to them. I don't want to tell them because I don't want pity from people.

If I could self diagnose myself, it would most likely be Generalized Anxiety Disorder.

I used to think people just came up with these disorders, naming them just for the heck of it. But now that I'm sort of in that position, I can understand. It is manageable, treatable. I refused to take medications because what pill can fix my guilt? None. It all comes down to my thinking and accepting that I'm not guilty. Maybe talking to people about it. Heck, even writing about it so when I reread, I can see myself from a reader's perspective. I have to not let the guilt consume me. Once I can accept that, it will help me with the rest.

Just have to take it a step at a time.