I wrote a poem a year ago titled “God made me an earthquake” that eventually got published on an American online literary journal. Sadly, that literary journal is long gone, but that poem still remains one of my most favoured ones that I have ever written. I love blurring the lines between topics I care about – for that poem, it was mental health and religion. I won’t go too deeply into the meaning since 1) that’s not what I’m entirely writing this post about and 2) the beauty of poetry is that like art, everyone interprets a single poem differently, unless of course the poet has revealed why they wrote it.
I’m writing this post simply because today is a Bad Anxiety Day. Normally, on these days, I just deal with it as I always have: communicate to my loved ones that I’m not doing so well, take the day one step at a time, and be as forgiving to myself as I can. Thankfully I’m off today so there’s less burden on me than if I were at work, but being alone with your thoughts and anxiety comes with its own set of issues.
I’ve gotten so awfully familiar with anxiety that it’s to a point where even panic attacks – which are notoriously terrible – feel like a fucking walk in the park. Back in polytechnic (and yes, my poly friends will remember this) it felt like I was dying every time I had a panic attack. Now, I get panic attacks on trains, at work, in restaurants, and I just sit or stand there and stare ahead blankly, wiping my sweaty hands against my jeans or pressing my palm against my chest to try and deal with the fact that my heart is racing too fast for me to keep up with. I don’t know if I should be proud or sad. Proud because I’ve adapted so well, or sad because I’ve had to deal with it so long and will probably deal with it for the rest of my life.
And don’t get me fucking started on the physical symptoms. Most people think anxiety is just panic attacks and intrusive thoughts, but it’s more than that. People with any anxiety disorder actually have to deal with the physical manifestation of that shit. For me, my anxiety manifests mostly as vomiting and phlegm. I’ve vomited in more public toilets than I have in my own damn house. Which, now that I’m thinking about it, isn’t something I should be proud of. Oops.
BUT WAIT! There’s more! My throat closes up so I cough a lot. My guts are not happy with me, so some days I don’t eat because if even one spoon of rice enters my stomach it all comes gushing out later. And don’t even get me started on the worst contender: the worrying. The intrusive thinking. I hate it. I hate them so much. The worrying and the intrusive thoughts fuel my insomnia, which means I don’t get to sleep. Hoo-ray.
When I say anxiety is an earthquake, I mean it a hundred percent. Life’s already hard enough, but imagine your own damn body and mind being a battleground, fighting and opposing you every single step of the way. That’s not how human beings are supposed to work, right? Of course not. Our body and mind should be under our control (mostly). Buuut…
Anxiety says no. Anxiety will shove you out of the driver’s seat and take over, then drive your fucking car over the edge of a cliff. Anxiety will drive your car at breakneck speed until it’s out of fuel and wouldn’t even have the decency to return it to you.
Honestly, it’s just pretty tiring. I’m fine with dealing with the physical stuff – jeez, that’s easy because it’s physical, you know? But the mental exhaustion just sucks, man. You’re just utterly drained from having to fight yourself for that day. Then you go to sleep (or try to), and then you wake up tomorrow and you gotta fight again. And then again. And then again.
When I was in secondary school the way I coped with it was that I used to imagine my anxiety as a shadow that I could have conversations with. Weird, but somehow it worked. On better days when the shadow would tell me that my friends hate me, I would tell it to shut up. On the not-so-better days, I would listen, and I would hate myself.
Of course now with the anti-depressants I cope much, much better. But some days this goddamn illness still brings me to my knees. Still makes me wish I was born differently, that I was normal. But I learned a long time ago it doesn’t work like that, and I’ve stopped crying and screaming at God and/or the Universe for making me this way.
I don’t wish this on anybody. I also don’t think it is “my duty to carry such a burden”. That’s fucking stupid. But this is what I’ve got. This is what I’m stuck with. So, how do we go from here?
And back to paragraph two. I’ve learned that as someone with a mental illness, communication is extremely vital. Not only do you of course talk about your anxiety, but being as open as you can to the people you love seriously helps. Compassion and forgiveness is key and should go both ways – anxiety cannot be controlled. Apologise and take accountability if you do something under it, but never be so hard on yourself. Remember: you aren’t fully in control of yourself. You are not. You are not.
After this, I will bundle myself up in my blanket, turn on my PS4, and watch a comfort show. Probably Star Wars’ Rogue One, because I really love Jyn Erso. She’s cool as hell. Or I’ll listen to music, or I’ll read a book. Whatever it is, I will do something that I know will make me happy. God knows I need more of that.
Before I go, I’ve attached links to organisations in Singapore that have helped me greatly with my mental health. If you have any questions, please don’t be afraid to hit me up. I have fought for my mental health for so long, of course I would love to help someone else fight for theirs, too. A disclaimer, though: what worked for me might not work for you. Therapy/psychiatry/medication takes trial and effort. But please, I implore you to continue to fight for your mental health.
Tomorrow will be a better day.
Love, the writergirl
Mental Health Resources:
CHAT is perfect for if you’re still unsure what your illness might be, whether it’s anxiety or depression or OCD and so on. I went to CHAT for an assessment, and from there they got me a referral to a therapist, which greatly helped me. Best of all: their assessment is free.
Clarity is a mental health non-profit organisation that provides all sorts of services. Here is where I managed to get a therapist. From what I remember, they’re very affordable. Instead of a whopping $200+ for a single therapy session, the most I had paid was $40. But they also offer a sliding scale based on your budget! Some sessions I paid only $20, others nothing at all. Full disclosure though, Clarity is a Catholic organisation. However, they offer secular therapy, meaning therapy that does not incorporate religion at all, which is the one I took.
Singapore Association of Mental Health C’SAY
I have not tried C’SAY before, but it’s a great way to meet youths with the same struggle as you. If you’re looking for a way to find a good support system, C’SAY is a great start.
I am not a mental health expert, just someone who’s had years dealing with her own. I used to think help was hard to find, but it’s not true. There are places you can go to, people you can reach out to, who can and will help you.
Again, if you’re still reading this, don’t be afraid to reach out to me. I will help you as best as I can. We’ll get through this together.
the writergirl 
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