At the end of 2016, I made the decision to go to a doctor to ask for help. I didn’t really know what to expect. I thought I would sit down, tell them my problems and how I feel day to day, and I would walk out having a diagnosis. Pretty simple right? Wrong.
I talked and talked and talked for what felt like hours and when I left I had the diagnosis of Generalized Anxiety Disorder as well as Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. I got exactly what I wanted, a diagnosis. It was only when I was leaving the office that it actually sunk in. I thought I would feel relieved to finally have an answer, but it was the complete opposite. I officially knew that there was something wrong with me and I didn’t know how to fix it.
It’s been four months since that day and it hasn’t gotten any easier. Turns out I also have Bipolar 2 with Rapid Cycling. I started on a mood stabilizer last week, and I’m really hoping it helps with my highs and lows.
I’m learning to be more patient, that I’m not going to “just going to get better.” I’m starting to change my attitude regarding my diagnosis, and trying to remember that it does not define me.
Simply, Sara Michelle
People say that taking the first step is often the hardest and personally, I definitely believe that to be true. I waited as long as I possibly could to ask for help. For me, asking for help was the same as admitting defeat. Admitting that something was wrong and I wasn’t strong enough to cope with it on my own.
I knew that I suffered from anxiety way before I went to see a doctor. People would always tell me to stop worrying and I could never understand what they meant. It seemed impossible to me to just be able to turn my brain off and just let things happen as they come. I am such a huge believer in the saying that “everything happens for a reason,” but having anxiety makes me question this constantly.
Before my diagnosis I felt different than those around me. I would make the simplest tasks seem so confusing and daunting in my head. It got to the point where I would only leave the house to get groceries, and even then I would have to prepare myself. It would sometimes take me 2-3 hours just to get out of the house. I was letting my anxiety take over and that’s when I knew that something needed to change.
There are so many different types of support systems this day in age, no one should ever feel like they are alone. Taking the first step doesn’t necessarily have to be going to see a doctor. It can be as simple as realizing that you need help, maybe even confiding in a loved one.
Regardless of your situation, you are never alone.
Simply, Sara Michelle