PANIC!

"Most patients who have bipolar disorder have a coexisting anxiety disorder. These include generalized anxiety disorder (GAD), social phobia, panic disorder, and PTSD." The Anxious Bipolar Patient, Psychiatric Times

Having a coexisting anxiety disorder is almost expected, it seems. I have read that having a coexisting, or "comorbid", anxiety disorder is nearly a rule in the diagnosis of Bipolar, specifically Bipolar II. As if us 2's don't have enough to worry about already.

Having Generalized Anxiety Disorder is pretty miserable. If I were to separate each symptom of Bipolar, and include GAD as a symptom itself, I would say that GAD affects me more than anything. If I had to mark an X on a calendar for every day that I struggled with anxiety, I would have 365 X's. 

It's hard to explain, really. There is a scene in the movie Home Alone where the mom is sitting on the plane and she says "Oh my gosh, did we turn off the coffee pot?" Yes, she is assured. "Did we close the garage, what about the garage?" Yes, that was done as well. Of course, this is not a direct quote but you get the idea.

Now imagine feeling that way all the time. Every day. Are the tires going to go flat? I have a cough, am I getting the flu? What if a sink hole forms in the exact spot I am sitting?

My heart hyperventilates. I hyperventilate. My thoughts swirl around in my head and create a vortex of "what if's" with the worst case scenario always looming as a possibility. Sometimes it is manageable. Sometimes it is triggered by an event, situation, conversation or something simple, like a newspaper article. I worry and worry and worry. I work myself into what I call a "mini panic attack". Essentially, the point where I should be breathing into a paper bag. But instead I am trying to ignore it and work through it. Sometimes, this progresses into an actual panic attack. It feels like I am breathing through a straw. It feels like I am having a heart attack. I feel like I am dying and someone should call an ambulance.

Vomit. 

Conversations and socializing.

Being out of routine.

Surprises.

These are all things that make me PANIC! in a very bad way. It's exhausting.

Anxiety is exhausting. I wish I could just relax. I wish I wasn't such a "worry wart". But I am. I worry about everything that I make myself sick. But I guess I don't make myself sick. My anxiety makes me sick. And I am sick and tired of it. It has plagued me since I was 4. I remember having mini panic attacks at night on my bed after everyone else in the house had fallen asleep and I felt all alone. I would cry and wish for it to be morning so I didn't have to be so scared and alone.  There were many, many sleepless nights when I was young. I slept with my parents until I was 7. And even once they started to lock their bedroom door, I would sleep in the hall. Not because I wanted to sleep with them, but because I couldn't relax unless I was next to them. I couldn't sleep without knowing they were right there. So I slept in the hall, or their bedroom floor for years.

Anxiety is a bitch. A cold hearted bitch.