Ophiucha
Auror
Hey Scribes,
A little rant from me, just thinking about my anxiety disorder and writing and stuff. I've got anxiety! Yay! It started maybe four years ago, and it wasn't that bad. I knew it was something that could get worse - since my mum has an anxiety disorder and those things sometimes pass down the bloodline - but it didn't stop me from doing things, so I pressed on without thinking about it (note: this was probably a bad idea). Then I dropped out of university for reasons I justified in logical ways, again ignoring my anxiety. I got married and was happy for a while, but my writing... my anxiety stuck around for that. I could feel it niggling at the back of my mind, the self-doubt and mini panic attacks every time I had to really write something. I could do it in small bursts, but a novel was out of my reach. I would again justify this with other things (short stories are just better), refusing to acknowledge the anxiety.
And then, about a year ago, my visa expired and real life anxiety hit me pretty hard. No need to get into those details, just a bit of separation anxiety mixed in with the sudden need to go to job interviews and speak to strangers, and for a few months... I could write. I went to a little writer's group in town (with Jenna, who I met on this very forum! hi Jenna!), I had so many other issues in my life that I could just use writing as an escape, and while I was still very anxious about the quality of that writing, I could write that off as just 'regular writer problems'. But then things got a little better, I had some financial support and the distance from my husband lessened, and the long-and-short of it is that I just can't write again. I'm inches away from a panic attack every time I try.
And my mum things I should start medication, like she has. And some part of me agrees, because I think it would help, and some part of me is just terrified that it might help everywhere but my writing - which is the one non-husband thing that means the most to me. That if I start my medication I'll just come to realize how much of my on-and-off inability to write was basically just my own problems, or maybe that my anxiety about everything else was my only motivator to begin with. People talk about how mental health medications can 'change you' and for the most part, I recognize that I kind of need changing, but... you know, this is who I've been for years, and I'm just sort of worried that taking the meds are going to make me change all of my hobbies and regret everything I've done in my life so far (or at least since I went to college). Or that it'll kill my creativity or something, I don't know. You hear horror stories, and it's sort of hard to figure out which ones are from the loonies who think small pox vaccines give your kids autism (and that autism is somehow worse than your kid dying of small pox) and which ones are from respectable health journals, you know?
I don't know, just posting this here to vent my feelings in words instead of articulating them out loud (as stated, this never ends well for me), sort of confessing to myself that yes, the anxiety is a problem, and see if anyone else has dealt with anxiety (or depression, OCD, etc.; it's often the same medication for all of them). Every time I think about it I just set off my anxiety again; it's kind of just a negative feedback loop.
P.S. You should definitely shorten 'Ophiucha' to 'Ophis' instead of 'Ophiu', because that last one looks and sounds very weird and 'Ophis' is technically more correct in an Ancient Greek sense.
A little rant from me, just thinking about my anxiety disorder and writing and stuff. I've got anxiety! Yay! It started maybe four years ago, and it wasn't that bad. I knew it was something that could get worse - since my mum has an anxiety disorder and those things sometimes pass down the bloodline - but it didn't stop me from doing things, so I pressed on without thinking about it (note: this was probably a bad idea). Then I dropped out of university for reasons I justified in logical ways, again ignoring my anxiety. I got married and was happy for a while, but my writing... my anxiety stuck around for that. I could feel it niggling at the back of my mind, the self-doubt and mini panic attacks every time I had to really write something. I could do it in small bursts, but a novel was out of my reach. I would again justify this with other things (short stories are just better), refusing to acknowledge the anxiety.
And then, about a year ago, my visa expired and real life anxiety hit me pretty hard. No need to get into those details, just a bit of separation anxiety mixed in with the sudden need to go to job interviews and speak to strangers, and for a few months... I could write. I went to a little writer's group in town (with Jenna, who I met on this very forum! hi Jenna!), I had so many other issues in my life that I could just use writing as an escape, and while I was still very anxious about the quality of that writing, I could write that off as just 'regular writer problems'. But then things got a little better, I had some financial support and the distance from my husband lessened, and the long-and-short of it is that I just can't write again. I'm inches away from a panic attack every time I try.
And my mum things I should start medication, like she has. And some part of me agrees, because I think it would help, and some part of me is just terrified that it might help everywhere but my writing - which is the one non-husband thing that means the most to me. That if I start my medication I'll just come to realize how much of my on-and-off inability to write was basically just my own problems, or maybe that my anxiety about everything else was my only motivator to begin with. People talk about how mental health medications can 'change you' and for the most part, I recognize that I kind of need changing, but... you know, this is who I've been for years, and I'm just sort of worried that taking the meds are going to make me change all of my hobbies and regret everything I've done in my life so far (or at least since I went to college). Or that it'll kill my creativity or something, I don't know. You hear horror stories, and it's sort of hard to figure out which ones are from the loonies who think small pox vaccines give your kids autism (and that autism is somehow worse than your kid dying of small pox) and which ones are from respectable health journals, you know?
I don't know, just posting this here to vent my feelings in words instead of articulating them out loud (as stated, this never ends well for me), sort of confessing to myself that yes, the anxiety is a problem, and see if anyone else has dealt with anxiety (or depression, OCD, etc.; it's often the same medication for all of them). Every time I think about it I just set off my anxiety again; it's kind of just a negative feedback loop.
P.S. You should definitely shorten 'Ophiucha' to 'Ophis' instead of 'Ophiu', because that last one looks and sounds very weird and 'Ophis' is technically more correct in an Ancient Greek sense.
Maester
Troubadour
