As someone with General Anxiety Disorder, I struggle daily with worry and overactive nervous symptoms. First it begins in my facial expressions. My eyes grow wide and unblinking. My mouth becomes a thin line and my forehead wrinkles up. The photographer who took my family photos said it was my “constipation face.” I space out with feelings of being overwhelmed, and experience regular mental fogs.
The next part of my body that’s noticeably affected is my hands. I rub them together like I’m lathering up soap. That or I wipe them on my pants repetitively, tug on my ear lobes, or pull anxiously on the hem of my shirt. I chew up the inside of my mouth and twist my eyebrow hairs. These are all quirks, but General Anxiety is more than just visual symptoms. It’s a regular battle in my mind. It’s fear and withdrawal, the inability to shut my mind up, and a constant reminder that I am different, and uncomfortable in my own skin.
I was diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder in 2012. But that didn’t mean much. It just gave a name to the symptoms I’ve had all my life. Even as a child I remember the teachers in school commenting on my excessive nervous trembling.
I was either born with this disorder, or possibly gained it in the first year of my life when I struggled to keep food down because of a disorder called Achalasia. This is just my own theory. I know the malnutrition caused a delay in learning and I imagine a lot of physical stress. Who knows what all the side effects were. Either way, anxiety has been present for as long as I can remember.
Having an anxiety disorder has been a stumbling block in many areas of my life. I know it’s caused huge problems in school. But honestly, I don’t regret that I have it. Some people don’t understand why I identify so strongly with my disorder, rather than trying to distance myself from it, or treat it like a burden. But I believe there are many positive things about it, as bizarre as that sounds. I believe anxiety disorder can be, dare I say, a positive thing?
First and foremost, having a disorder helps you to be more forgiving when other people’s disorders act up. When someone has a panic attack, or is suffering from an intense bout of depression, it doesn’t bother me to sit with them, and hear them out. I’ve had those moments. I know how it feels. If you have patience with my moments, I’ll try my best to have patience with yours.
I believe those who struggle with anxiety, awkwardness, or just feeling different than other people, often develop a more colorful sense of humor. Most of the humorous moments of my life were started by my lack of gracefulness. Tripping, stuttering, falling on my butt, it can all be moments for embarrassment or I can embrace it and turn it into a story for others to laugh at. I call these my Mr. Bean moments.
General anxiety disorder inspires me to root for the underdog. Whether it be in a movie or real life, I like to see people who have the odds against them succeed. Often my favorite character in a show is the person who just doesn’t fit in. I loved Cramer in Seinfeld, and don’t get me started on Adrian Monk. He’s my hero. Nothing made me connect to this character more than the episode where Monk’s bowling team was laughing behind his back, and yet, he kept his chin up. I couldn’t help but think, “I would so hang out with you!!!”
It creates an immediate connection when I meet someone and know they experience anxiety too. Sometimes before either I or the other person has spoken, I pick up on their tense body language and think, “This person is from my tribe.”
It keeps you humble. One of my proudest moments in school was when I moved to a new school in California. Because my sister and I were from Canada, we drew in interest from our classmates. For this one time in my life, I probably could have hung out with anybody. But I chose a fellow weirdo. A girl that I considered popular approached me and said, “You know, it really hurts your popularity to be hanging out with that girl.” I don’t remember if I laughed or not, but I should have. I shrugged her off and continued to hang out with my buddy. I feel proud that I wasn’t swayed by the idea of fitting in. And that I cared more about feeling comfortable with someone and having a good time than something as shallow as other people’s opinions. This character quality, to me, came about BECAUSE I have General Anxiety Disorder.
There are plenty of legitimate reasons to resent having General Anxiety Disorder. Yet for me, I wouldn’t wish it away. I might want to overcome more obstacles it causes. But I wouldn’t take away something that helped shape my personality, no matter how bothersome it can be. If I didn’t have my dysfunctions, I would be someone else. Maybe that person would have great qualities, but I’d rather be me.
