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Gabe / on Fri, Feb 8 2008 at 9:50 am

Dear Diary

I’ve talked a couple times here about my anxiety issues. I’ve said before that I never thought I could take any kind of medication for it. That’s due to the fact that one of the things I was most paranoid about was drugs. It’s true that I did finally see a doctor and I have started taking medicine. I felt a little weird about it at first but a friend of mine made a good point. He told me he takes four different pills for his allergies every morning. For some reason that really made sense to me.

So I’ve always worried about things. I also always knew that most of the time there was nothing to worry about. For me it wasn’t even just worrying about something. I understand that everyone worries. The best way I can describe it is "Chain worrying." I’ll try and give you an example. The medication I picked up today said it could cause dizziness. That might worry someone for a second and then they would take the pill. For me though I had to obsess over it all afternoon. It went something like this: But I drove to work today by myself, will I be able to drive home? What it I cant? How will I know if I can’t? Should I call the doctor if I get dizzy? How dizzy is too dizzy? What if the doctor isn’t there? Will I need to go to the hospital? Should I get a ride home? I can’t leave my car here overnight. The garage closes at 6 what will I do with my car? What if Kara can’t come get me? Should I ask Kiko for a ride home? If I get dizzy does that mean it’s working? Does that mean it’s not working? What if it doesn’t work? What if I don’t have anxiety disorder, what if I have a worm in my skull that eats brain and shits tumors. To use a term you might be familiar with, my anxiety "stacks".

It was almost impossible to go get help though because the very nature of the illness prevents you from getting it. So I worry alot, I know that. So I start to think maybe I worry too much. Maybe I have a real problem. Then I think, "no I’m just worrying too much". This is the kind of thing that keeps me awake at night. It’s fucking inescapable like some kind of brain trap. So I have to write off  this fear that I might actually be sick as another example of my needless worrying. Add to that the fact that I worry that if I do go to a doctor he’ll tell me I have some kind of brain disease or I’m not treatable or maybe just as bad that there’s nothing wrong with me. All this shit piles up and the result is that I’m 30 and I’ve never gone to the doctor about it until yesterday.

There were a lot of factors that contributed to me finally going. I’ve had a friend for a while now who had similar problems. He got help a while ago for it and has been trying to convince me to do the same for more than a year. Also, and this is a big one, I felt like it was getting worse. I had sort of resigned myself to living with it. I had managed it this far I figured there’s no reason I can’t keep it up. When I noticed that it was getting worse rather than staying the same I got scared. Not even for myself necessarily but for the people around me. I have a family now and that means I don’t have the luxury of indulging my neurosis. I decided that if there really was another way of living, that if I really could get rid of this weight that I owed it to myself and the people around me to try.

I guess I could experience some sexual side effects but honestly I was never very good at that to begin with. The increased anxiety is a real concern (hah!) but if it happens at all I’m told it will go away within the first week or so. In the end I’m just crossing my fingers and staying hopeful. It couldn’t hurt to try. Unless the medication liquefies my bones. That would hurt.

-Gabe out

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