My Anxiety Journey, Part 1

Several years have passed since the night I’m about to tell you about. Still, I can remember it vividly, and still it affects my life.

The night started like any other… how’s that for a cheesy story starter? Seriously though, it felt like any other night. Sometime after I went to bed, I was startled awake. My heart was pounding and felt like I couldn’t catch my breath. I sat on the edge of the bed, trying to breathe, to no avail.

I was afraid.

The truth was that there was nothing to be afraid of, yet I was afraid. I knew that it didn’t make any sense. I also knew that the truth didn’t matter. I was afraid.

Actually, to say I was afraid wouldn’t really do it justice. I was freaking out.

I sat on the edge of the bed for a short time but had to get up. I couldn’t just sit there. I also didn’t want to disturb my wife. I moved to the living room and paced…

Back and forth, and back and forth, I paced.

I’d pace for a while, then sit in the recliner thinking I might be able to get to sleep. I wouldn’t even get the footrest up before I had to get up again. And again, I paced.

Back and forth, and back and forth, I paced.

Over and over I sat in the chair, for just a matter of seconds before I had to get back up and pace.

Back and forth, and back and forth, I paced.

This seemed to go on for hours. Looking back, I’m certain that it was not nearly so long. But, it sure felt like it.

After a while, I finally decided to wake up my wife. I really should have done this much sooner. I’m not sure if it was pride, or shame, or fear of how she might respond, or maybe even a genuine desire to not disturb her. What it certainly was was stupid. We are a team, I’m here for her and she is here for me.

She came into the living room with me. She watched me pace, unsure of what to do. As she become more awake, she held my hand. With her feeling her presence and her touch, I was able to sit down. She talked with me. She played ocean waves sounds on her phone. And she held my hand. After a time, I was finally able to sit back in the chair, put the footrest up, and finally fell asleep. Kim stayed out there with me, still holding my hand.

I woke up a different man

When I woke up the next morning, I was a different person. Nobody could have looked at me and seen the difference, but I could feel it with every fiber of my being.

You see, the version of Matt that had gone to bed the night before was confident, even bordering on cocky at times. Maybe more times than I care to admit. He was calm, to the point where nurses that worked with him in the ER sometimes went so far as to ask him how he always remained so calm. That version of Matt believed that he could do anything he put his mind to.

That version of Matt was gone.

I woke up the next morning a different man. I woke up afraid. Afraid of nothing, and afraid of everything.

I remember going to work that morning. I had to go down one level to the basement to get to the department I was working in. I approached the elevator I had ridden in thousands of times before. I pushed the button and waited for the door to open. When it opened, I couldn’t bring myself to enter it. I had ridden this elevator literally thousands of times and it was only one level, but I couldn’t do it. I went around the corner and took the stairs.

I was a different person and I wasn’t sure that I liked this version of Matt.

The anxiety continued throughout the day. I remember having to start an IV and my hands shaking as I did. I had started thousands of IVs prior to this and I was good at it. Still, I was so afraid that my hands shook. My hands hadn’t shaken like that in nearly 20 years, since I first started drawing blood as a phlebotomist.

I was afraid… of everything… and of nothing.

Then bedtime came

As evening approached, I gradually began to become more and more anxious. I felt like someone returning to a place where they had been attacked. Just the knowledge that I would soon have to go to bed, or even just to sleep made me anxious.

Little did I know that this was going to become a nightly routine for at least the next several months, and maybe even a year or more. I can’t clearly remember when this stopped.

I knew I had to sleep and I was trying to be the man I was before this started. I was certain he was gone, but I was going to pretend. So, I kissed my wife goodnight and climbed into bed. I intentionally rolled to face away from her. I didn’t want her to see that I was lying there awake, with my eyes open.

Eventually, I closed my eyes and tried to sleep. I could feel my heart beating and feel the anxiety growing in me.

So, I prayed.

I prayed, “Lord, give me peace; give me strength.” Over and over again I prayed. I literally prayed myself to sleep. I did this every night for months.

It’s better now, but not over

Truth is I’m much better now. I’d love to say that I have defeated anxiety. I’d love to be able to share a powerful tool that could help you defeat anxiety. Sadly, I don’t have any such things to share. I am much better now than I was. It’s not that I never face anxiety. Rather, I’ve just gotten better at dealing with it.

My hope in sharing my story is that you might realize two things:

1. You are not alone. There are so many people dealing with the same, or similar stuff
2. There is hope to get through it and learn to deal with it.