You are Not Alone 

Anxiety Should Have A Different Name 

I’ve always found it difficult to explain anxiety to someone that hasn’t experienced it. Anxiety is a term that describes an emotion that almost everyone experiences at certain points in their lives. Before a presentation. Interviewing for a new job. A first date. Planning a wedding. Buying a house. Making a new investment. Opening a business. I’m not saying that emotion isn’t anxiety, and that it is not valid. The stress, nerves, and worry that something could go very wrong - that is all very real. But, there is something else that exists in the human experience, and it’s been designated the same word, anxiety. 

  As someone who deals with this kind of experience, I can’t say it doesn’t make me angry that these two experiences share the same word. I just don’t think it is a fair comparison. I don’t believe it is something that everyone experiences, or understands for that matter, and I don’t believe it is synonymous with stress, nerves, and worry. That’s simply unjust. Anxiety, to me, is being so consumed, so utterly overwhelmed by your emotions and thoughts that you actually want to leave your own body. You would rather be literally anywhere else besides inside of your own skin. You can try to think rationally and breathe deeply, but it doesn’t work. And you definitely can’t leave your own skin, so you have to sit in it. This is what many would describe as a panic attack. But, that surplus of emotions, thoughts that you just can’t seem to make any sense of, that could last moments. Or hours. Days. And yes, years. 

  I have been “anxious” for as long as I can remember. Even as a kid, I just couldn’t seem to quiet my own mind. There was always something to worry about. Think deeply about. Something to question or be consumed by. There was always some reason to not be completely present. As a child, you don’t have the awareness to recognize that this is not how everyone functions. It’s different for everyone, but it was in college when I realized that this is definitely not how everyone functions on a day to day basis. It was two years after college when I realized I had enough. There is a reason that anxiety is linked to depression. If you deal with this kind of anxiety, I don’t think it is unreasonable to ask yourself, “Is this really how I have to live my life?” While I don’t think it is irrational to question this, I knew it was the moment I needed help. Through therapy, and yes, medication, my anxiety has not disappeared. Do I understand it better? Yes. Where it comes from, what exacerbates it, what helps ease it? Yes, I have a better understanding of all that. Have I gained some clarity in accepting this as something that I will deal with forever? Yes. Most importantly, have I recognized that it gives me tools and qualities that make me incredibly unique? Absolutely. I am empathetic. I am resilient. I am relentlessly kindhearted,  because I recognize that you never truly know what someone else is enduring. I understand the emotions of others. I know ways that will reach them, that maybe others do not. 

  So yes, “anxiety” as a word, it bothers me. Because, if you’re experiencing this, and you're finding a way to navigate your life with positivity and grace - you are special. You are incredibly strong. Courageous. And I just want you to know that. Above all else, you are not alone.

                                                                                                                                                                                           -CPHS STAFF MEMBER

For a long time, I felt like I was broken. It seemed like something was fundamentally wrong with me in terms of interacting with people and navigating my life. Granted, this was right smack in the middle of my college years, which tend to be confusing even for the most adjusted person. Don’t want to hang out with large groups of people at parties? Society determines something is wrong. Don’t want to have lots of relationships or hook up with people? Society determines that something is wrong.  So, because of these crazy societal views and pressures, the internal thought process immediately goes to, “why?”. Why do I have to be different? Why can’t I just be like everyone else and view the world in the same ways? Slowly, very slowly over time, you start to see and realize that the answer to the why, is “you don’t have to”. You don’t have to be like everyone else. You don’t have to be like ANYONE else. Unique is one of the best things. Who wants a carbon copy? An authentic person is ten times better. So keep being you. Keep doing what you like and what you want, no matter what others think. If you do what you like to do, you will meet other people who also like that activity, and that is when you will find the community you fit into the best. And that is the greatest feeling in the world.

                                                                                                                                                                                           -CPHS STAFF MEMBER

Good Secret, Bad Secret

When we are young, or at least when I was young, my parents always preached to me and my sibling the concept of “Good Secret, Bad Secret.”  It was a fairly simple but important lesson that basically taught, if it's a secret where no one is getting hurt; a crush on someone, not liking someone’s cooking, etc.; it's okay to keep that secret.  Whereas, if someone has a secret where they are getting hurt or someone else is getting hurt, you can’t keep that secret; a kid getting hit at home, someone touching someone else in an inappropriate manner, someone is going to hurt themselves, etc.  It was a clear and concise lesson, and if my life were a book or movie, all those conversations would be as clear an example of foreshadowing as there is.  

My sibling and I couldn’t be more different.  There was an intensity to them, almost like an aggression.  A need for everything to be just right and perfect.  But also, an edge.  They started drinking at an early age, as well as taking drugs.  They would get caught, but the punishment was minimal.  I would participate a little bit, but they would rage, binge drinking every chance they got.  It was a touch past social.  Fast forward through high school and into college, they bounced around to different schools, never quite finding their niche.  And eventually followed me to where I went.  One night, two weeks before I graduated, they showed up at 3AM, having driven to me from the bar district of school.  Right away, it was clear to see that it was an AWFUL choice.  They were rocked.  In no shape to drive.  They were also sobbing.  They had reached a breaking point.  They had a secret, a bad secret, that they needed to get off their chest, they couldn’t live with it anymore.  My sibling then proceeded to tell me, in detail, that when we were kids, we had a family member who had molested them.  I felt sick to my stomach as I was listening.  But I knew it was important to just listen, not react.  They were in trouble.  When they were done telling me, they left.  I couldn’t stop them.  They insisted on leaving and driving back to their place.  They swore me to secrecy, and didn't want our parents to know.  Just wanted me to know.

I didn’t know what to do.  But I knew I would see my parents for graduation, and I didn’t know if I could keep that to myself.  I started doing research.  If you look at a profile of what a molestation victim looks like, my sibling could be the poster child.  All their extreme behavior, the self medicating with drugs and alcohol, the poor relationships with family and friends.  It was all there.  

I made the decision, that this was a bad secret, and that my sibling needed help.  Help that I could not give them.  They needed counseling, they needed support.  I told my dad first.  I couldn’t face saying the words to my mom.  I figured, he could do that.  It imploded our family.  Nothing was ever the same.  I was blamed for a long time for letting the secret out.  How could I not even hold it a month, when they held it for 20 years?  But my parents were devastated to.  In their minds, this was a failing on their end.  How could they let this happen? How could they not know?  They blamed themselves.  I blamed them a little.  I blamed myself for the fall out.  It destroyed all of our mental health. 

That could be a post for another day.  

After spiraling and making some poor choices myself, I sought counseling.  It helped.  A lot.  It put a lot of things into perspective.  It allowed me to learn about healthy relationships.  I was shown that my sibling came to me because they knew I would go against their wishes.  I was their cry for help, and despite the yelling, and cursing and abuse that was coming my way, I answered their cry.  

Fast forward about 10 years, maybe less, I was faced with a similar good secret, bad secret.  While I sought therapy, my sibling never did.  Their self medicating got worse.  And it graduated from alcohol and weed to opioids.  Again, it was a fact that I noticed, and identified.  I confirmed it with my siblings friends, as I always assume I am wrong.  Once it was confirmed, I got to implode our family a step further, and tell my parents, I was able to tell them both this time, that their child, who they already feel like they failed, was a drug addict.  Another failure on their part.  Or so they would think.  We staged an intervention, it did not go well.  But the first ones so rarely do.  But they tried rehab, for a bit anyway.  I’m told they are doing well.  The proof and evidence contradicts that though.

I guess the reason why I’m writing this is because I am sure many of you are faced with a good secret/bad secret situation.  I’m also sure there are some of you who have experienced what my sibling did.  For those with good secret/bad secret.  Do what you are supposed to do.  It’s going to be hard.  Probably harder than you can imagine.  But all the right things to do are hard.  And if you truly care for someone, you cannot help them by keeping a bad secret.  And you don’t deserve to live with the guilt if you do.  For those dealing with what my sibling is, you are NOT alone.  Any wound, be it physical, mental or emotional, needs to be tended to.  Get help, don’t self medicate.  It is going to be hard, but you are worth fighting for.  And who better for fight for you, than you.  It helps those who have your back to fight with you against your problem, rather than fight against you and the problem.

Be well. Be strong.  Be vulnerable.

                                                                                        -CPHS STAFF MEMBER