"LIVING IN THE PRISON OF ANXIETY"

I compare Anxiety to a prison because it robs you of your freedom to enjoy life to the
fullest. I can say this in complete honesty, as I have been it's prisoner for about 51 of my 57 years.

It started when I was just six years old. An incident at Church spawned the beginning
of living with this condition for all of these years. I had run to the restroom after

the service, and while in my stall, I noticed a pair of feet in the next stall, not
moving at all. Like all young kids with big imaginations, I thought to myself , "What
if she is dead?" Then the prison door opened and I was thrown in when I thought, "If
she is dead, they will blame me!"

Somehow, this though embedded itself in my mind and I didn't know what to do.
Fifty years ago, this condition was a closet subject. If you told someone you were
scared or felt weird, they immediately dubbed you as "mentally ill."

I didn't dare talk to my parents about it, but at night lying in bed, I was so consumed by fear I felt I was dying. I left little notes in my drawer, hoping my mom would read them and help me. She remembers reading them, but didn't have a clue as
to how to help me.

The sad thing about anxiety is it invites inmates into your prison; Obsessive-Compulsive thoughts and actions, Depression, Panic Attacks, ect. I know
this from personal experience.

As the years passed, I continued to suffer, as some of the inmates of anxiety
(OCD, and Depression), set in.

All during these years, I had gotten married, had three children, and worked various
jobs.

The only thing that helped me to accept my physical and emotional symptoms was
accidentally coming across a book by Dr. Claire Weeks, "Hope and Help for your Nerves." She described what was happening to all of us sufferers in layman's terms, so we could understand what was taking place in our bodies and minds. Every page had
something I could identify with. To this day I credit her with literally saving my
sanity, as I was sure I was losing my mind.

It wasn't until the early 80's that I first heard about a medication that could help
with my symptoms; Prozac. My family begged me to talk to my doctor, but I was hisitant. Back then it was a sign of weakness if you had to take anything for
emotional problems, but I listened to him and started on the drup and within a few
days felt a difference. My Goliath, as I liked to call it, wasn't quite so large
anymore and I was able to cope with life better.

It's so wonderful in this day and age where we can discuss these type of issues
openly, which allows others to get the help they need. I have shared my experiences
numerous times and found it to help relatives and friends.

I am not wring this article for those people, but for you out there who are still in
denial of think they are weak if they have to seek some type of help.

With the wonders of the internet, you can to to www.anxiety.com and find out anything
you want to know about Anxiety and it's cronies.

Remember, it takes time and effort to get the right program for you. For some people
it is yoga, others, medication, and alternative ways to coping with it all.

I hope what I have written will be of inspiration to someone out there who will
get the help that is now available. I never had that luxury!

My next step; seeing the psychiatrist my kids are seeing. This condition runs in
families and my kids all have the condition to one degree or another.

I guess I still have some denial in seeing one. Wish me luck!

Learn more about this author, Andrea Larsen.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.

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