Dealing with anxiety

Hey everyone.

Look, I just gotta get this off my chest. Seriously, I can't hold it in anymore.

Last year, I ended a four-year relationship. Honestly? I hadn't even liked her for the last year. I just didn't want to feel like I wasted four years of my life, you know? I wanted to see if the issue was actually me or if it was her before I called it quits.
During that whole mess, I met this other girl. She was actually there for me way more than my ex ever was. Through everything—from when I was sick to when I was totally broke—she had my back.
And then, on the very night I officially broke up with the first girl, she and I ended up together.
Now, maybe this sounds stupid to some people, especially guys, but in my 26 years, I’ve had four girlfriends. Every single one was a long-term thing where I fought for us as hard as I could.
We had regular sex and everything, BUT I could never actually "finish." Like, seriously, through four different relationships spanning maybe eight years total, I never once reached climax during sex.
So, with this new girl, the night right after the breakup—boom, I finally finish. But obviously, we weren't using protection, and I didn't finish inside her, just... well, you know. On myself.
Since I've never experienced that with a woman before—only by my own hand—I absolutely lost it. Total panic. Pure terror. I didn't know if I'd gone inside her or not, and I was spiraling because I don't have a steady job, I'm broke, and I don't even live alone. For the next twenty days, my stomach was in knots and I was hit with these massive panic attacks. Not even "real" physical ones, if you know what I mean, but enough to drive me crazy. Eventually, things settled down and we stayed together, but man, it changed everything. Now, every time we sleep together, I am literally counting the days until her period starts—regardless of whether we used protection, did it anally, or whatever. In the days leading up to it, the fear of pregnancy gets so intense I can't even sleep until 5 AM.
This went on for five solid months. I basically started avoiding sex altogether.
While all this was happening, our relationship was a circus. Her mom is a nanny for my grandma, and since she's Muslim and I'm "Catholic," the local community was constantly breathing down our necks about it. We didn't even know if we'd stay together because of the drama, plus I was terrified she'd get pregnant. So yeah, I dumped the old girl and found the new one.
Fast forward five months: things finally calmed down with her mom, and honestly, regarding the religious stuff, I just told her to stick it to them and enjoy life. But that fear of sex? It never left.
Around the tenth month, maybe a little later, we were out together. I hadn't eaten much that day, maybe just a quick burger, and suddenly I start feeling dizzy. Like, spinning. She asks if I'm okay, and even though I felt like death, I played it cool: "I'm fine, babe, just think the sun got to me a bit."
Ten minutes later, the panic hits me like a freight train. Even typing this now makes me anxious. We hadn't even walked fifty feet before I felt like I was going to collapse—like I was going to die right there. My brain was screaming, "Crap, someone's gonna see me, I can't be a mess in public!" I tried to cross the street and hide behind a building. I was sitting there, and she was pouring water on me trying to get me to snap out of it, because I felt like I was having a heart attack or suffocating. Just completely lost.
I ended up at the ER. Blood pressure was 150/90, blood sugar was a little high, around 6.5. They did an EKG, said my heart was racing a bit, but the doctor basically said, "It's just anxiety." Whatever.
The next day, I'm home, and I can't stop thinking about it. I'm up until 5 AM. Around 4 in the morning—the exact same time as the day before—I'm having lunch with my mom, lying down, and suddenly the nerves and the dread hit me again. I'm out on the balcony, nothing physically hurts, but I'm convinced I'm about to drop dead.
Back to the ER again. Same thing: slightly high blood pressure, sugar is still high, EKG shows a fast heart rate, but everything looks "fine."
Then, for two weeks straight, it was the same loop. I wake up and immediately start obsessing over my health. I feel dizzy whether I'm sitting, walking, or running. After two weeks of this, I couldn't take it anymore. Then the symptoms shifted: my neck went stiff, and the skin under my left eye felt numb. I could feel it when I touched it, like it was deadened. That sent me into another spiral. I went for a head CT—totally clear. Checked my inner ear—nothing, no infection. Then I started Googling. And God, let me tell you, Google is the worst thing ever. I started seeing stuff about cancer and every other terrifying disease, and it just made the panic ten times worse.
And honestly, I’m still stuck in the exact same spot today: dealing with constant anxiety and full-blown panic attacks.

It hits me hardest when I’m just chilling at home alone. Since I didn't finish college, I can't stop spiraling, thinking I’m a total nobody who’ll never find a wife—even though my girl loves me for exactly who I am. She takes care of me and even cries with me when this crap gets too much. It kills her that we can't really go out; if we went to a club, I’d be terrified of passing out in front of everyone. I'd feel like such a loser, embarrassing both her and myself, and those thoughts just make the spiral even worse. Then there are certain spots near where I actually passed out before; I can't even walk past them without my head spinning because there are always people hanging out at coffee shops, and I get this paranoid feeling like everyone is staring at me, waiting for me to freak out. Even enclosed spaces, like standing in line at a Target, leave me praying: "Please, man, don't pass out right now."

I tried seeing a therapist once, but then I pulled back because I thought, "Screw it, I'm tough, I can handle this on my own."
It’s been four months since I actually saw him. Things aren't necessarily getting worse, but whenever I get stressed, everything hits at once. I want to lose my mind. I get this suffocating feeling, stomach pains, dizziness, numbness, a stiff neck, and massive headaches. You start thinking you have cancer or some other garbage.

I had to vent this to you guys because I'm at my breaking point. Sometimes it gets so dark I think about jumping off a building. I’d never actually do it, but the mere thought of suicide triggers even more panic. My palms are literally sweating just typing that word, BUT I would never do it because I actually want to fight my way through this!

So, do you guys think this is definitely anxiety and panic attacks?
By the way, I take some Lexapro occasionally just to take the edge off, and it helps a bit.

One more thing: the only time I feel normal is when I’m not obsessing over all that stuff—my health, the dizziness, worrying I have cancer or whatever. Lately, I’ve been restoring an old bike, and when I’m totally locked into that work, I feel great! Or like recently, we were at my girlfriend's family cabin; the kids there have autism, and I was constantly checking in on them, making sure they were okay or hungry. When I was playing with them, I was totally fine. But the second I calm down and my brain drifts back to the anxiety, it grabs me again and won't let go. But as soon as I get back to playing with the kids in the pool, I'm good!

Like yesterday, we spent the whole day at the beach. As long as I was swimming and messing around with my girl, I was awesome. The moment I settle down and start thinking about my health again, I'm back in the gutter.

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.

redranger2 said:If you're dealing with panic attacks, you gotta handle that with antidepressants and therapy. Just hit up your primary care doctor, tell them straight up about the panic, and ask for a referral to a psychiatrist so they can decide if meds are the move for you. Also, load up on some B vitamins and magnesium.

Thanks for the tip on the B complex, but man, I ended up getting the runs from it recently. I was popping one tablet three times a day and my stomach just went south, so I had to quit. They say if you get diarrhea, it's 100% because of the complex, so maybe I'll try cutting back to just two pills or even just one next time. As for the magnesium, honestly, I take it whenever, or sometimes I don't.

The thing is, I really need to be taking it. I've got thrombophilia, which might be why I'm such a nervous wreck. I've spent way too much time in hospitals lately—first dealing with this massive bilateral bronchial pneumonia that dragged on for six months (spent three of those stuck in a hospital bed), and then getting diagnosed with the thrombophilia and being back in a hospital again... I don't even know anymore. This whole ordeal has left me feeling super depressed. Some days I'm too terrified to even step foot outside, and other days I don't even want to go inside because I spend the entire day just sitting there alone.

But seriously, thanks for the reply. I'll get back on the B complex and try to be more consistent with the magnesium.

redranger2 said:Panic attacks? Look, you handle that with antidepressants and therapy. Just hit up your family doctor, tell them straight up you're having panic attacks, and ask for a referral to a psychiatrist so they can decide if meds are the move for you. Also, load up on some B vitamins and magnesium.

Just wanted to jump in here because honestly, people around here act like antidepressants are some kind of poison. I swear, whenever I even hint at my own issues, everyone looks at me like I’ve totally lost it—like I’m out there having a schizophrenic episode or something crazy. But the second I mention just taking some herbal supplements for my problems, suddenly everyone's an expert, saying, "Oh, you don't need pills, you aren't crazy, it's all in your head." It's such a joke.
Are they actually dangerous to take? Antidepressants, obviously.

George Wood61 said:I appreciate the suggestion regarding the B complex, but honestly, it gave me such bad diarrhea recently that I had to stop; I was taking one tablet three times a day before that happened. They say if you get diarrhea, it’s almost certainly due to the complex, so perhaps I’ll try scaling back to just one or two tablets a day once I start again, though I can't say for sure if I'll bother with the magnesium—it really just depends on my mood.

As for myself, I have to stay on top of my supplements because I deal with thrombophilia, which probably fuels this constant underlying anxiety. My life has been an endless cycle of hospital stays ever since I dealt with bilateral bronchial pneumonia that dragged on for six months—three of those were spent stuck in a hospital bed before the thrombophilia diagnosis forced me back under medical supervision—so I'm feeling pretty lost with it all. This whole ordeal has pushed me toward deep depression; there are days when I'm too terrified to even step foot outside, and others where I don't want to go back in because I spend the entire day alone.

Anyway, thanks for the input. I think I'll give the B complex another shot and try to be more consistent with the magnesium.

Which specific B vitamins were you taking three times a day? Was it Plibex?

George Wood61 said:I should probably add one thing: people here seem to view antidepressants through such a dark lens, and I’ve heard nothing but negativity about them. Honestly, whenever I mention my own situation, everyone treats me like I’m losing my mind or dealing with some heavy schizophrenia, yet the second you suggest taking something like Prozac for my specific issue, they immediately backtrack and claim I’m perfectly sane and just need to "get my head straight."
Are they actually dangerous to take? Antidepressants, obviously.

There is still a massive stigma surrounding mental health issues, and an even larger one surrounding medication. I have been on antidepressants for ten years now, and frankly, I regret not starting sooner; I could have had a much higher quality of life during my younger years instead of suffering needlessly for all this time.
No medication is entirely without risk—not even a standard Aspirin—which is precisely why drugs should only be taken under strict medical supervision, provided you follow your doctor's guidance, there won't be any issues.

redranger2 said:Wait, what B vitamins were you popping three times a day? You talking about those Plibex ones?

Hmm, I was on that B-complex from Niagara Falls. It’s 4mg per pill.

It comes in one of those big bottles with 60 brown tablets in it.

redranger2 said:There’s still such a massive stigma surrounding mental illness, and an even bigger one regarding medication. I’ve been on antidepressants for 10 years now, and honestly, I regret not starting sooner because my younger years would have been so much better. Instead, I just spent years suffering for nothing.
No medication is completely harmless—not even a standard Aspirin—so you've gotta take stuff only after talking it over with your doctor, then you won't have any issues.

Man, just thinking about having to take something for 10 years straight makes me sick to my stomach. I really don't want to add that to my plate since I'm already taking Martefarin 2 every single day along with Acipan.
Now I'd have to deal with that too? Forget it.

I finally figured out my pattern. When I'm busy working on my bike or messing around on my computer, I'm totally fine—zero issues. But the second I'm just sitting around doing nothing, or if I head out to crowded spots like a local mall, grocery stores, or passing by coffee shops, that panic hits me out of nowhere. It's that fear that I'm gonna pass out.
But I noticed that if I just head out without overthinking it, just walking past a cafe without dwelling on it, the panic and the feeling of fainting never show up. It’s all in my head. It feels like the more I try to "fix" things or organize my thoughts, the worse it gets.
That's why staying busy with work or a hobby actually helps me manage all this crap.

It sucks, man. You're just sitting in a chair, you feel your heart start racing, and boom—instant panic.
When I get hit with it, my vision doesn't go blurry or anything, it's more like this intense sensation that I'm about to collapse, like I'm losing touch with myself. It's like there's this high-speed train of pure panic shooting from my gut straight to my brain, and when it hits, I just want to bolt and find somewhere to hide so nobody sees me.