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What a Day with Anxiety is Like

​Heather McCain
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Did I turn the oven off?

I'm pretty sure I did.

I should go check, though. Yeah, I should go check because I need to make sure I locked the doors, too.

So, I drag myself out of bed to go check. It is eleven o'clock at night and I've been in bed for over an hour, but my thoughts won't slow down long enough for me to fall asleep. My eyes are heavy, and I really want to sleep.

This is anxiety.

The next morning, after broken sleep, I wake up and let the dogs out. I close and lock the door behind them, because I don't want to risk anyone coming through my unlocked door. It's a beautiful day, and I wish I could open the windows and let the air flow through the house, but I will be overwhelmed with anxiety if I leave entrances into my home opened. I tell myself I am overthinking it, that I can open the windows and enjoy the nice weather. I leave the windows shut.

​This is anxiety.
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I am now driving to my mother's house to drop my daughters off so I can go to a doctor's appointment. I feel confident that they are strapped in safely, because I checked three times before we left the driveway. More than once, I find myself worrying that random cars will crash into us. I arrive at my mother's house and knock on the door. She is taking longer than usual to answer.

Why isn't she answering? What if she had a heart attack?

She opens the door. She is fine. My heart is still racing.

This is anxiety.

I'm at my doctors office waiting for my test results. I have been waiting 20 minutes, which is plenty of time to play out multiple versions of the worst-case scenarios. I reassure myself that everything is fine, that none of my recent test results have indicated any issues. Still, when the doctor walks into the room, I feel a wave of nausea rush over me. The test results are normal. I'm kicking myself for getting so worked up over nothing.

This is anxiety.

After I leave the doctor's office, I'm alone in the car with my thoughts for a little while. I think about the lady I met in the waiting room. She tried to make small talk with me but it made me so anxious that I could barely carry a conversation with her. I wanted to talk to her, she seemed nice.

She probably thought I was stuck up. Or weird. I made myself look like a real jerk this time.

I crank up the music.

Who cares what anyone thinks of me?

I care.

This is anxiety.
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I've picked up my daughters from their Nana's house and we are home. I unlock the doors, and walk from one side of the house to the other, checking all of the rooms, closets, and behind the shower curtians to make sure no one is in the house. I honestly don't really have a plan as to what I will do if I find someone, but I don't really expect to find anyone. I know that it is my anxiety causing me to need reassurance and not an actual threat to our safety. But, still, I need the reassurance.

This is anxiety.

My husband and older kids are home from work and school. I am cooking spaghetti on the stove and I have garlic bread in the oven. The kitchen smells amazing, the kids are playing, and I feel happy. Suddenly, I feel a twinge of pain in my chest.

What was that?

It's nothing, just a muscle spasm.

But what if it's a heart attack?

It's not a heart attack, it's a muscle spasm.

Now, my face is starting to tingle. So are my fingers. My heart is racing and I'm having palpatations. I'm starting to sweat and feel lightheaded. I order everyone out of the kitchen, walk to my bedroom, and sit on the bed.

This really might be a heart attack.

No, it isn't. You are having a panic attack. Breathe. Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

I feel my heart slowing. I got through it without my Ativan this time. I am relieved. After a few minutes, I go to the kitchen and finish cooking dinner.

This is anxiety.

The kids are in bed and my husband and I are watching TV in our bedroom. I hear a noise coming from the living room.

"What was that?"

"Babe, it's the cat."

"Can you check?"

He knows it is the cat, and I know it is the cat. But, he checks because he knows I need him to confirm that it was the cat. He comes back and reports that it was the cat. I can't help wondering, what if it wasn't?

This is anxiety.

It is finally time for bed. I'm exhausted, and I have a tension headache from another day of anxiety induced stress. I lay my head on the pillow and find a comfortable position.

Did I turn the oven off?

I'm pretty sure I did.

I should go check, though.

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