“I used to cancel all the plans to stay alone” | SOS: Stories Of Survival

I don’t even know when it started, honestly. It wasn’t like one big thing happened and then everything went downhill. It was more like... small stuff, piling up. Like, I’d just get tired a lot. Like, really tired. But it wasn’t just my body—it was in my head too. I couldn’t think straight, couldn’t focus. I’d sit at my desk for hours and get nothing done, just staring at the screen.

I remember one time, I was supposed to meet some friends for dinner. I’d been looking forward to it, but when the day came, I just... couldn’t go. I felt heavy, like my whole body was filled with lead. I texted them saying I wasn’t feeling well, but the truth was, I just couldn’t bring myself to leave the house. I didn’t even know why. I stayed home, lying on the couch, doing nothing, and then felt guilty about it all night. It made no sense.

Then it started happening more. I’d cancel plans, ignore calls, avoid people. The worst part was, nobody noticed at first. I guess I was pretty good at hiding it. I kept going to work, doing the bare minimum. Pretended like everything was fine, even though my head was full of this... fog.

One day, I was at the grocery store, and out of nowhere, I just felt like I couldn’t breathe. My heart was racing, and I thought I was having a heart attack or something. I actually left my cart in the middle of the aisle and walked out. Sat in my car, shaking, trying to figure out what was happening. I didn’t tell anyone about it because, I don’t know, it felt stupid. Like, who freaks out at the grocery store?

A few weeks later, it happened again. This time, I was at work. I had to excuse myself from a meeting and go to the bathroom, just to sit there and calm down. That’s when I knew I couldn’t ignore it anymore. Something was really wrong, and it wasn’t going away on its own.

I talked to my cousin about it, kind of by accident. We were on the phone, and she asked how I was doing. I don’t know why, but I just started crying. I hadn’t cried in years, but it was like everything came pouring out at once. She told me it sounded like anxiety and that I should probably talk to someone, a therapist or something.

At first, I was like, "Yeah, sure," but I didn’t do anything about it for weeks. The idea of talking to a stranger about what was going on in my head seemed weird, scary even. But then, after another panic attack—this one at home—I finally made an appointment.

Therapy wasn’t like some magic fix. I thought I’d go once and feel better, but no. It took time. There were days when I left feeling worse than when I went in. I didn’t want to do the work, didn’t want to face the stuff that was making me feel this way. But eventually, things started to make sense, kind of. I learned to recognize when the anxiety was creeping in, and I figured out some ways to deal with it.

I’m not gonna say I’m all better now. I still have bad days, days when I can’t get out of bed or answer a simple text. But now, at least, I know it’s okay to have those days. I’m not broken; I’m just... figuring it out, one step at a time.

If anyone reading this feels the same way, like they’re drowning in their own head, just... don’t wait as long as I did to get help. It’s hard, and it feels impossible sometimes, but talking to someone does help. You don’t have to be strong all the time.