Dealing with anxiety
in Health ·
George Wood61 said:Greetings, everyone.
The time has come for me to finally vent this, because quite frankly, I can't carry it anymore.
Last year, I ended a four-year relationship with a woman I hadn't truly loved for at least the last twelve months; I stayed that long simply because I didn't want to feel like I had wasted four years of my life, hoping to figure out if the issue lay with me or her so it could be resolved.
During that transition, I met someone else who was consistently more supportive of me than my long-term partner had ever been, standing by me through everything from health scares to financial struggles.
On the very night I officially called things off with my previous partner, she and I ended up together.
Now, this might sound trivial to some, particularly men, but in the twenty-six years of my life, I have had four serious girlfriends, and every single one of those relationships lasted a significant amount of time where I fought to make them work.
We had regular intimacy, but there was a persistent issue: I simply could not reach climax with any of them; over the course of those four relationships—roughly eight years in total—I failed to finish even once.
With this current woman, however, on that very first night after the breakup, it happened instantly, though naturally, we weren't using protection and I didn't finish inside her.
As someone who had never experienced that sensation with a partner before, only through self-gratification, I was seized by an overwhelming wave of panic and dread; I couldn't tell if I had actually finished inside her or not, and the uncertainty was paralyzing, especially considering I don't work, I have no money, and I don't live alone. For the next twenty days, I suffered from gastric pains and bouts of anxiety—not the physical kind, but the psychological variety, which you can probably deduce why. Eventually, after about twenty days, things settled down and the relationship seemed fine, but I found myself living in constant fear whenever we were intimate; I would literally count the days until her next cycle, regardless of whether we used protection or the type of intercourse, and in the days leading up to it, the fear of pregnancy became so intense that I couldn't sleep until five in the morning.
This state of affairs persisted for a good five months, during which I essentially avoided intimacy altogether.
Our relationship was complicated by external factors, such as the fact that her mother is the caregiver for my grandmother, and the tension involving our different religious backgrounds—she is Muslim and I am Catholic—and in a place like this, people always find a reason to stir up trouble. We weren't even sure if the relationship would survive all that, compounded by my terror regarding a potential pregnancy, yet I still moved on from that four-year stint to start this new chapter.
It’s been five months now, and while the situation with her mother has stabilized and I’ve learned to shrug off the religious friction and just enjoy life, that underlying fear of intimacy remains.
Around the tenth month, perhaps a little later, we were out together; I hadn't eaten much that day, just a quick pastry, when suddenly I started feeling dizzy and lightheaded; she noticed and asked if I was alright, and despite feeling terrible, I lied and told her it was just the sun hitting me a bit too hard.
Within ten minutes, a massive wave of panic hit me, and even writing about it now brings back that sense of dread. We hadn't even walked fifty yards before I felt as though I were going to collapse, as if I were going to die at any second; I sat there paralyzed, thinking to myself that if anyone saw me struggling, I wouldn't want to cause a scene, so I just wanted to cross the street and hide behind a building. She was trying to help, splashing water on me to get me to snap out of it, because I genuinely felt like I was having a heart attack or suffocating—that terrifying sensation where you lose your sense of place.
I ended up at the emergency room with a blood pressure of 150/90 and slightly elevated blood sugar; they ran an EKG, and while my heart rate was elevated, the doctor concluded it was merely a reaction to extreme anxiety. I accepted that.
The following day, I spent the entire day and night ruminating on it, unable to sleep past 5:00 AM; then, around 4:00 AM, just like the day before, while I was having lunch with my mother, the nervousness and fear returned; I went out onto the balcony and once again, there was no physical pain, just the absolute certainty that I was about to die.
I found myself back in the ER again; my blood pressure was a bit elevated, sugar levels were steady, and the EKG showed nothing out of the ordinary, just a slightly rapid heart rate, but everything else seemed fine.
Then, over the following two weeks, the pattern became relentless: I wake up obsessing over my health, feeling dizzy whether I’m sitting, walking, or running, and my mind just won't let go of it. After about fourteen days of this constant mental loop, things escalated—I started experiencing neck stiffness and a strange numbness under my left eye, where the skin feels odd to the touch, almost deadened, which triggers a wave of terror. Naturally, I went for a brain CT scan, which came back perfectly clear, and even had my middle ear checked, only to find absolutely no signs of infection or pathology. Then I made the mistake of Googling my symptoms and fell down a rabbit hole of nonsense about various cancers, which only served to deepen the panic.
And here I am today, stuck in the exact same cycle: living with anxiety and full-blown panic attacks.
It hits hardest when I'm at home, since I live alone, and I struggle with the feeling that I haven't finished college—this persistent thought that I am a nobody who will never find a wife, even though the woman I'm with loves me unconditionally and cares for me deeply; she even cries with me when I lose my mind over this garbage. It's hard because we can't really go out; if we were to go to a club, I'd be paralyzed by the fear that if I faint, everyone will see, and I'll humiliate both her and myself, a thought that only intensifies the dizziness. It's the same near the area where I originally collapsed; I can't pass by without feeling lightheaded because there are always people crowded into the local Starbucks, and I get this overwhelming sensation that everyone is staring at me, waiting for me to fail. Even in enclosed spaces, like standing in line at a grocery store checkout, my only thought is: please, just don't collapse right now.
I actually saw a psychologist, but then I let my ego get in the way, thinking I was strong enough to handle this entirely on my own.
I haven't seen him in four months, and while things have improved somewhat, I still get these days where any slight agitation sends me spiraling—suffocation, stomach pains, dizziness, numbness, neck stiffness, and headaches that make me convinced I have some terminal illness.
I felt compelled to write this all out because it feels like it's all becoming too much; sometimes the weight of it makes me think about jumping from a building, though I would never actually do it. The mere thought of suicide itself triggers more panic, and even as I type these words, my palms are sweating, BUT I swear I would never act on it because I truly want to overcome this. !
So, do you all think this is just anxiety and panic attacks?
For what it's worth, I occasionally take some Xanax to calm down, and it helps a little.
I should add one thing: the only time I feel normal is when I stop dwelling on everything—the health scares, the dizziness, the cancer fears. For instance, lately, I've been restoring a bicycle, and when I'm fully immersed in that work, everything is perfect. Or recently, when we were at a cabin and I was helping with the kids, who have autism; I was completely focused on them, checking if they were okay or hungry, and playing with them felt great. But the moment I settle down and my thoughts drift back to my anxiety, the dizziness returns, the panic takes hold, and I'm back in that grip of fear—yet the moment I refocus on the kids playing in the pool, I'm fine again.
Yesterday, for example, we spent the whole day at the beach; as long as I was swimming and joking around with my girlfriend, I was fine, but the second I calmed down and my mind drifted toward my health, everything turned sour again.
If you're having panic attacks, the standard approach is antidepressants combined with psychotherapy. Go see your primary care physician, tell them about the attacks, and ask for a referral to a psychiatrist so they can determine if medication is necessary for you. Also, make sure to supplement with B vitamins and magnesium.