Anxiety vs. Asthma: Why Is One More Accepted Than the Other?
Before I start, a little disclaimer: Everything in this post, with the exception of the linked article, is solely my opinion, and should be regarded as such.
Anxiety.
This word controls my day, everyday. No matter how much I think I’ve got it under control, it’s just not the case. Anxiety decides how easy (or not easy) it will be for me to get out of bed and complete my morning routine, or rush through the essentials of getting ready. Anxiety decides if I’m going to be pleasant or cranky. Anxiety decides if, after I’ve completed my work day, I’m going to be able to continue to be productive, or spend the five or six hours before bed doing absolutely nothing of note. Anxiety decides if I’m going to sleep well or toss and turn until my alarm goes off the next day, and the whole process starts over again.
In October 2015, years after my anxiety symptoms began to manifest, I was clinically diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and Generalized Anxiety. As far as which came first, well, that’s a chicken-and-egg type of question. Currently, my OCD is managed with the lowest dose of a commonly-prescribed anxiety medication. That tiny little pill doesn’t completely take away my anxiety, but it takes the edge off and allows me to function like a relatively normal person. If life becomes overwhelming, however, I can still give in to those obsessions and compulsions. Often, if my anxiety is not sated when it rears its ugly head, I can become very nervous and agitated.
Recently, the school district I work for completed our Winter Break. I went back to work for inservice on Wednesday, and the kids came back on Thursday. Wednesday morning, my brother texted me about a family situation; this is not the first time we have faced this situation but the same concerns and anxiety build immediately when it happens. Thursday night, I found myself so anxious and stressed, I asked my roommate, “Is it too early after break to take a mental health day tomorrow?”
Mostly I was joking, but the fact that it would have been frowned upon got me thinking. I also have asthma, and if I called or texted my boss and told her I was having an asthma attack and needed to stay home, it’s likely no one would have thought much of it. If I had called and said, however, that I was having high anxiety and needed some time for myself, that’s not as accepted. Why is that? We’re almost twenty years into the twenty-first century, and with all the encouragement to talk about our mental health and accept this silent, invisible diseases, there is still a stigma attached to those of us who may need accommodations for our disorders.
According to Fortune:
- 42 million Americans live with an anxiety disorder.
- 16 million suffer from sever depression.
- 6.1 million have bipolar disorder.
The linked article goes on to state:
- Only 41% of adults with a mental health condition received help; less than 50% of children ages 8-15 received mental health services.
- 36.9% of this affected by anxiety receive treatment.
- 20% of Americans with moderate depressive symptoms sought help from a medical professional.
The generation I am from seems to be in a weird sort of limbo where we are more open to acknowledging and seeking help for our issues, but we also seem less inclined to use the manifestations of these symptoms as an excuse/reason to not attend work or other events. We keep mum about our diagnoses and management plans, suffer through parties and emotionally-taxing work days, and keep the tears and complaints to ourselves. In contrast, the generation before us took on a more “suck it up” type of approach, and the generation after us fully embraces their issues — maybe more than those issues need to be embraced. (Of course, that statement could be borne of my perspective on my own issues and upbringing.)
Is this why the stigma remains? Because our supervisors are from the generation who sucked it up, didn’t talk about it, and just moved on with their lives? Because we feel we need to set a better example to the generation after us who seem to have lost some of the work ethic that we have — just as we have lost some of the work ethic maintained by the generation before us.
Whatever the reason, I encourage all of us, myself included, to be honest about what’s happening with us. This doesn’t mean we openly offer up the information on our anxiety and depression and other mental health disorders, but let’s not hide them, either. I has taken me thirty-plus years to be honest with my close friends when I need to cancel plans because I’m on sensory overload or my anxiety is attacking me in some other way, and not make up some other excuse (read: lie) in order to avoid the event. I’ll admit, I’m even guilty of doing this with my job, though I am trying to do better about that.
On Thursday, I’ll post about self-care/anxiety management tips and tricks I’ve discovered that have helped me be honest with others about my OCD and anxiety, but for now, let me say this: if we are going to embrace our disorders, we cannot continue to lie about it and hide it from others. We cannot use anxiety and depression as an excuse, either, but just as those who have asthma or cancer or any other chronic illness, we have to accept and acknowledge on of the hardest things there is to accept and acknowledge — we need help.
I’ll see you guys on Thursday. Until then, keep encouraging yourself, keep accepting yourself, and, above all, keep moving forward.
Extremely well written! And extremely true!
