It's called a comorbidity. I don't like the word; it make me think if dying twice. But anxiety is comorbid with depression, and unfortunately it's go me by the throat.
As evidenced by this post, I've been having a freak out about my grad school application. The specifics of the situation are not so important as my reaction, which is extreme paralyzing anxiety. It is the most horrible feeling, worse than depression in my opinion. It's about what my mind falls back to once it is not occupied with something else:
Depression --- > distraction over ----> I don't see any point to anything. I'll just sit here and wallow. Better yet I'll ruminate. Maybe I should die. <<shrug>>
Anxiety --- > distraction over ----> Whatever the issue is pops back into my mind, and I feel like the bottom drops out of my stomach, there is no shrug, no oh well, it's like OMG, racing mind, fretting, the feeling of I can't take this anymore.
I was like that over my grad school application. It was a catastrpohe, my own fault, I won't get in, what will I do with my life, I don't deserve to get in, etc. I still feel it under the surface waiting to pop up again. I hate this feeling more than anything. I'd rather vomit, which is the second thing I hate most in life. I'd rather vomit all day. I'd rather have shots in my feet. Only one though. Those things are horrible.
When I first got serious about dealing with my mental health, I got Celexa, Lamictal, and a baby dose of Xanax. Though I'm not bipolar, Lamictal does something to augment the Celexa or regulate my moods or something. I don't know, but just an SSRI doesn't work for me.
At first I didn't take my baby dose of Xanax. I thought I should tough the anxiety out because it wasn't as bad as it had been. I used to be really big on toughing things out which wasn't very healthy. (Untreated depression does physical damage to hypothalamus, another clue that it is a real disease.) Once I allowed myself the "luxury" of the Xanax, it helped me get the gentle feeling that everything is okay.
Everything was not okay last Thursday night, way not okay, bad bad not okay, so I took 1 mg Xanax on top of my 0.25mg usual. I did that again Friday and Saturday nights. Like I say, it was bubbling under the surface. I'm still upset and worried and disappointed in myself over the application, but I can now deal with it as if it is not a catastrophe. I'll be sad and angry, and I'll cry, but it will be okay. (Of course, I'm assuming I'll be rejected, which is fortune telling, No-No #89 in the Person With Depression Handbook.)
This is the first time in 2 years that I've had anxiety this bad. It may be because my Celexa has gone down, I may have to increase my daily Xanax. I'll discuss it with my people. But before I got serious, this crippling anxiety was more prevalent. I had free-floating anxiety that would coalesce around an issue like electricity is attracted to a lightning rod.
The last issue was again two years ago. I have a bad neighbor who would blow all the leaves from his property on to mine for me to clean up. He did this for three years. Each time I'd get so upset that I'd get "the bottom fell out" feeling, it was all I could think about and I felt sick to my stomach. When I came home and saw the leaves the third year, I had a panic attack. I hadn't had one before and haven't had one since. At the time I contemplated calling 911 because I was sure I was having a heart attack! I wrote the neighbor a legal sounding letter and copied the HOA, so the situation is resolved. But it was horrible.
Before that, around 2002, I broke up with someone and got my first dog all around the same time. Mr H did not like the crate training. The stress of the dog issue and the breakup got me so anxious that all I could eat each day was 1/2 bowl of Ramen Noodles. I didn't ask anyone for help. I just suffered.
Before that, I'd get sick over my house -- the floor boards creak and the floors are a little off level. I'd get sick and beat myself up: "If I sell the house I"ll get sued." "Why didn't I notice this at the home inspection?"
Skipping back to my childhood, it was aliens. Yes, aliens, the little green ones with the oval heads and big eyes. shiver. I'll never forget. I saw a TV story about an abduction, and it left me petrified for years. I didn't want to go outside alone at night. If I woke up in the middle of the night I'd be terrified. It was the same "bottom fell out" feeling. It's silly when I think about it now, and I wonder (no, I know) why I didn't go to an adult for reassurance.
(To this day I avoid anything alien-related because aliens scare me! They're spooky and they have spooky probes! Non-consensual probes! Consensual probes are fine by me, but no alien will ever get my consent! Shiver)
Before that it was the boob issue. Before that, who the hell knows.
After all that one deserves a treat. From the Broadway musical Grey Gardens, sung by the lovely and talented Christine Ebersole (Edith) and Erin Davie (Little Edie), I present Two Peas in a Pod:
