I attend church just about every Sunday. I've gone to the same church since I was 13. I know almost every person there by name, and I'm pretty sure that most people know me. If not by name, then they at least recognize me from week to week. I teach Sunday school at that church, I've spoken in front of that church, I've played guitar and sang in front of that church, and I can get almost any kid in that church to give me a high five. I love that church.
I get anxiety in that church.
Usually it's pretty manageable. I have this homemade stress ball (a balloon filled with flour) that I can play with when I'm feeling fidgety or easily distracted. It helps me focus. My parents usually let me sit on the end of the aisle instead of in the middle, and that helps too. I don't feel so closed in that way.
In the past, I've had times where I had to leave the sanctuary and listen to the sermon from the narthex, where I'm not surrounded by people. I had to do that today because focusing on my stress balloon wasn't cutting it. I was sitting in my seat, Pastor Phil had just started his sermon, and I felt like I couldn't breathe properly. I tried to take deep breaths, but I couldn't make my lungs work. My hands were trembling, even with the balloon to hold. I felt like there was a small child sitting on my chest. My stomach was twisting. I felt warmer than usual. Then I felt colder than usual. Then I went back to feeling too warm.
This my friends, is a minor anxiety attack.
I stayed in church as long as I could, trying to ride it out, thinking that I could just sit tight and wait for it to end. It didn't, and I had to leave. There are these super comfortable chairs in the narthex and I went to sit on one of those. It took at least twenty minutes for me to feel normal and calm again. At one point, one of my students came down from the balcony and passed by me. She asked in a joking sort of way, "Hey Andrea, whatcha doin'?" I replied in a similarly joking sort of way, "Oh ya know, just hanging out!" I do that a lot - I reach for a flip one-liner before my mouth says the truth.
I've had this happen before. Most notably was during my semester in Spain. Our whole group was in Granada for the weekend, and they took us to a traditional flamenco dance hall. When I say 'traditional.' I mean that it built into a rock face. No windows, one door, and small rooms. Part way through the dance performance, I started panicking. There were lots of people packed into the room, it was getting warm, the stomping and castanets were echoing everywhere, and I just couldn't handle it anymore. I had to get out of there before I made a scene.
This anxiety disorder of mine rears its ugly head like this from time to time. It's not nearly as prevalent in my life as my depression is. I don't experience it every day or think about it every day the way I do with depression. Depression and anxiety often go hand-in-hand and they feed each other. I am fortunate enough that mine seems to be pretty mild and occasional. Some people, though, feel like I did every single day. They live in continual fear of having a panic attack and falling apart in front of other people.
Anxiety disorders are more common than you might think. Recent surveys show that about 1 in 4 people experience clinical anxiety at some point in their lives. That number is higher in college students and in people with co-occurring physical or mental health conditions. That's a lot of people, wouldn't you say?
Probably the most frustrating thing to me about anxiety is that, like depression, it doesn't make sense. I love my church, I love the people who go there, I would be comfortable talking to anyone there. I even feel comfortable getting up in front of church to play music or speak for 15 minutes about a mission trip I took recently. That doesn't faze me in the slightest, though you would think it would, if I have a tendency to feel anxious. But just sitting in church and listening to a sermon makes me feel like I can't breathe and like I need to escape to an empty area? What's up with that?
I don't have a logical answer. There's a biological answer, though - people with anxiety disorders have an overactive nervous system. Your body perceives a threat, and the system activates the processes that cause you to focus and get ready to respond to the threat. Most of the time, though, the threat is minimal (the full fight-or-flight reaction is not necessary to respond to the threat) or there's not a threat at all. But your body thinks there's something to be threatened by, and it all goes from there.
It's this illogic that makes it hard for other people to understand anxiety, I think. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't understand it if I hadn't experienced it before, even with my education and training as a counselor. People can say, "You're fine, there's nothing to be afraid of here, you know everyone here, the door is right there, why are you panicking?" But it doesn't work that way. I could have said all of those things to myself this morning in church, but it doesn't make me panic less. It's just something that I have to sit in and endure.
Chances are good that, if there are more than 3 people in your life, you know someone with anxiety. It could range anywhere from mild to severe. OCD, PTSD, and agoraphobia are all anxiety disorders. Please don't discount or minimize their experience. It's very real for them, and that's what matters. I'm lucky to have people in my life that understand me and let me be who I am, but that's not true for everyone. Please don't tell someone with anxiety to calm down, or to think positively, or to try doing something to distract themselves. They've probably already tried these things and they probably just need someone to sit with them and ride the anxiety with them. Speaking from experience, that simple presence is more helpful than hearing advice or subtle reminders that there's something wrong with me.
I embrace my church and I embrace my anxiety. Both are part of my life and taking either of them away would leave me somehow incomplete.
No comments:
Post a Comment