Nobody puts baillee in the corner

This picture isn’t some selfie snagged from Instagram. This isn’t my way of jumping on some bandwagon. This is a real part of me, and I don’t mind sharing it. This is me during a major panic attack.

I know I’ve already written about anxiety and depression, but that’s exactly the point. I shouldn’t feel the need to give a disclaimer for writing another piece about them. These topics are near and dear to my heart, and I shouldn’t feel the need to apologize, but I do. The contradictory part is that’s exactly why I keep writing about anxiety and depression. We should be able to freely and compassionately speak about them. They shouldn’t be stigmatized. They shouldn’t be discounted as sadness and nervousness. They’re something entirely different. The media rarely portrays panic attacks accurately, so we’re mostly given dramatized images, often wrapped up in nice, neat little packages by the end of the episode/story arc, thus leading to false preconceived notions of the two. But I digress.

When  I’m having an anxiety attack, I withdraw into myself. I completely zone out. I get itchy. I fidget. I hide my anxiety attacks well. I discount them as a side effect of going to bed late, or even worse, I repress them while in public and wait until I’m alone to work through them. Although almost all of my loved ones have texted or called to help me through  an anxiety attack, I don’t think anyone I know has ever actually witnessed me having a major one. I don’t know if it’s because I’m too proud and don’t want to bother anyone or if it all comes down to me being too afraid that no one will want to stay in my life after watching it. All I know is it sucks to go through alone. Fortunately, mine are rare, and I know how to calm myself down. Others aren’t so lucky.

That’s why I’m here to tell you there is nothing wrong with having panic/anxiety attacks.There is nothing wrong with taking medication or going to therapy or meditating. There is also nothing wrong with not taking medication or going to therapy or meditating. For me, I don’t need medication, and therapy actually left me with more anxiety and trapped in my own head. Meditating, or at least my version of meditating, is the only one of the aforementioned things that helps. I light some candles, put on a record, and lose myself for a little bit. I have also found my greatest release of all: writing. At the end of the day, you have to do whatever is best for you.

This doesn’t mean your anxiety or depression can be solved in a matter of minutes like any early 00s teen drama would lead you to believe. It takes a lot of time and patience. Sometimes, it takes others longer than you, and sometimes it takes you longer than others. Both ways are totally okay. The wrong way of coping with depression and anxiety is not asking for any help. It doesn’t mean your weak. It doesn’t mean your helpless. It means you’re human. It means you accept your own complexities.

That’s why, my dear readers, I want to let you know I’m here for you. As someone who has been there/still struggles, I know how hard it is to reach out. I’m really lucky to have the support system I do, so I want you to know I’m willing to give you the same. I don’t want you to have to feel like you are alone. I don’t want you to feel defective or imperfect. I don’t want you to have to hide your anxiety and depression. That’s why I write about mine.

I’m not expert by any means, but I can tell you a few things with certainty. You are perfect. You are beautiful. You are amazing. You are not alone.