Though never officially diagnosed, I am almost positive that I have Generalized Anxiety Disorder, and while it has become more and more manageable over the years, I’m always so stuck in my head that I never really see myself getting better. But occasionally there are moments when I realize just how far I’ve come.
When I was 18, I got the opportunity to go to Montreal for a language program to study French. Just out of high school, uneducated about anything related to mental health or anxiety, I embarked on this adventure.
All throughout high school I experienced constant states of anxiety and stress and I thought it was all normal. I thought I didn’t need to ask for help because that would make me weak; no one else was asking for help, and wasn’t everyone else going through this?
So anyways, I go on this journey. I have extremely overprotective parents, so to help me adjust (and to make sure I would be okay in the area), my parents came along for the first week of the program. On my first day, I got settled in, signed up, and got placed. But then I had my first night. That night was the first night I had spent alone, no friends and no family. Everyone on my floor looked older than me, and while I was moving in I saw a group of people on my floor in an open room drinking beer. I have never drank in my life. As I laid down to sleep that night, a group of people ran down the hallways cheering and pounding on every single door (mine included).
That was the night I had my first panic attack.
I didn’t know what was happening. It felt like I couldn’t breathe, and I spent the entire night crying. I didn’t know what was happening and what was wrong with me. So when my dad told me that I didn’t have to stay, I immediately agreed. I ended up quitting the program and leaving with my parents after a week.
It has taken me forever to accept what happened. It was so embarrassing. Super super super super embarrassing. Like heart-rate-goes-up-and-back-starts-sweating-when-Montreal-is-mentioned embarrassing. I didn’t want to talk about it at all. It was probably the worst thing that happened to me at the time. It was awful because at the time I didn’t know why any of that had happened. It was just me, being a loser, being a coward, and not being able to handle being away from home.
Summer passes and then I started going to UBC. I learned about mental health and mental illness. I learned about what was wrong with me. I understood, I took it in, and I started to adjust my thinking, and I started to do what I could to make sure that my anxiety didn’t have control over me. It was years before I gathered enough courage to go off on my own again. I considered doing a semester abroad numerous times, and I blamed it on finances that I couldn’t, but it was more my nerves and fear that I would end up running back home within the first week again.
But in the summer before my 4th year, I went off on a trip with two friends through a program in a different country to study language again. Because I had friends who knew what was going on with me, it was a lot easier to go on this trip. And I ended up having a BLAST. I knew that it was different because I had friends, I had support and help. But it was still a success in my books.
The year after, I went to Europe for an internship. The first two weeks was tough. I had my second panic attack in the first week. But this time I didn’t run home. This time I knew how to get through it. I worked through it. I remembered to take deep breaths. A friend walked me through calming myself down. She told me to name 5 things I could see, 4 things I could hear, 3 things I could feel on my skin, 2 things I could smell, and if I could taste anything. It was tough to go from hyperventilating and feeling like I couldn’t breathe to taking deeper breaths and a slower heart rate.
My friend helped me through it and I realized what I needed to do so that I could be okay with being abroad and out of my comfort zone. Even though a large part of me wanted to quit and go home, I remember feeling like I could do it. So I stayed. And I had such a wonderful time! Europe was beautiful – opened my eyes to so many different cultures and history and art!
A year later and here we are. I’m writing this blog post from Asia. I moved here to study for a year. And yes, I did have another panic attack within the first two weeks I got here. Yes, I still have anxiety. But I’m here.
After my first horrible travelling experience alone, I am here.
At first I was so upset that I couldn’t travel alone because travelling was something I have always wanted to do. Something I had always dreamed of doing. When I first had that panic attack, all I could think about was how I would never be able to travel alone. I hated that something like my anxiety could stop me from doing this. From doing what I wanted to do and seeing everything I’ve wanted to see.
Except that isn’t what happened. What happened was I learned. I learned about me. And I learned that I didn’t have to let my anxiety run my life. Yes, it’s a part of me. But it doesn’t get to control me.
Yesterday I had this moment of clarity, where I remembered clueless and embarrassed 18 year old me. And then I thought about 23 year old me. Seasoned traveller. Independent explorer. And I had a moment of pride. Because I have grown. I just wanted to write about this to let you know that you can too.
Look below for some resources regarding GAD/Panic Attacks:
https://www.anxietybc.com/adults/generalized-anxiety-disorder
https://www.anxiety.org/generalized-anxiety-disorder-gad
https://www.helpguide.org/articles/anxiety/panic-attacks-and-panic-disorders.htm
Also my favourite gif, the idea is to sync your breathing with the shape.
Written By Annie Wu