2023

2023 was a horrendously shitty year.

I'm sorry, I wish there was a better way to state my thoughts. 

In hindsight, I think chopping nearly all of my hair off two days before the year started was a warning sign. Nobody who is truly okay commits to cutting their waist-length hair to their chin. It did look pretty chic though, I have to say. My reasoning at the time revolved around getting rid of the 'bad vibes' I was holding in my hair. Can't say my heart was in the wrong place. 

Reality hit me like a truck. An eighteen-wheeler loaded with weights slammed into me. So much of my life in college revolved around me imagining my first year post-grad as an idyllic version of life. Friends, money, freedom abound. Moving to DC, I was hopeful this could be true, and that I just had to get through the first few months. This phase was an adjustment period, if you will. 

I was hoping 2023 would quell any concerns I had in 2022. 

2023 sucked tremendously. 

I want to give a fair warning that this is perhaps, if not definitely, my most vulnerable post to date. 

For my consistent readers, you may remember that I always have, and still do struggle with anxiety. When I was younger it was mainly social. Going to new things, meeting new people, the likes of that pushed me to tears. I had my first real dabble with health anxiety in 2020, but who could blame me, with the novel coronavirus and all? 

A little background: 

In 2020, I was driving home with my sister when we came across a baby raccoon sitting in the middle of the street. The little guy did not seem able to walk very well, and I was incredibly concerned for him. At that point in my life, raccoons were my favorite animal. So I did the only natural thing, grabbed a towel from my back seat, picked up the raccoon, and brought him home with the intention of taking him to a wildlife rehab place in the morning. Upon calling them, however, I was informed that they do not take raccoons due to their proclivity towards contracting rabies. The lady informed me that I needed to get a vaccine. Important note: I never physically touched the raccoon, nor did I get scratched or bitten. 

Her warning to me sent me into a full blown spiral. I spent weeks in constant fear that I was edging closer and closer to death with every day that passed. To put it lightly, it wasn't fun. But it passed, like most things do. 

I was fine. Mostly. 

And then in February of 2023, I had a dream that a rabid bat bit me. And it all sounds so silly but I woke up convinced that a bat had gotten into my apartment and bit me while I was sleeping. All that I had thought I healed from nearly 3 years ago came rushing back, tenfold. I manically checked every single crevice of my apartment, sure that there was a bat. I spent hours with a flashlight going from room to room, corner to corner making sure it was in my brain. My notes app was full of repetitive phrases, intended to calm me, while in actuality, only making the anxiety worse.

I do not have rabies.

No bat bit me.

I do not have rabies.

No bat bit me.

I do not have rabies.

No bat bit me.

And over and over and over again until I felt better for just a second. Shortly after feeling better I made sure to do whole body checks. Scanning every square inch of my body for imperfections that could imply I was ill. When nothing was found I would take a deep breath and write my mantras in my notes app. When a small scratch was found, a tiny imperfection, I spiraled and cried and panicked. On and on again these would rotate. Check the apartment, check my body, write a note. Over and over and over. 

The worst part about health anxiety is the vicious cycle it takes. It causes anxiety so severe that mental anguish turns into physical symptoms. Physical symptoms worry me to the point of anxiety attacks. Anxiety attacks cause me to feel sick. Anguish and fear. Sickness and exhaustion. Anxiety is a carousel that I cannot step off of. 

Honest to God, I know this whole thing sounds just ridiculous enough to be silly. I mean... a real, albeit harmless, raccoon and a rabid dream bat caused me to lose control of my life. I like to laugh about it with my friends sometimes. But I also feel as though they don't understand that the panic it induced stole nearly a year of my life from me. A whole year of my life was consumed by ever-present dread. Fear so potent that it followed my every waking moment. I cannot properly express how evil it felt, being tricked by my own brain into constantly expecting death. 

The mental toll of it all started to affect my life elsewhere. Some days I found myself spending more time staring at my computer screen rather than working, tears brimming over my eyes. Anxious thoughts suffocated me, smothering any ability I had to focus. I struggled to sit at my desk, because there is nothing worse for a worry-prone brain than an idle job. 

I knew my job wasn't right for me soon after I started. I was promised a fast-paced job with exciting opportunities and was met with an atmosphere that never quite allowed me to find my place. Trust was never granted to me, causing my confidence to diminish until it was almost nonexistent. My ability to trust my intelligence faded until I was left feeling like the most incapable employee in the world. I had so much of myself to give and it was never accepted. This surely did not help my anxiety. 

It felt like my entire life was falling to shit. My brain was actively working against me, my boss and I couldn't connect on any of our issues, and I was miserable at work and home. There was quite literally no escape. Every single one of my problems followed me like a ghost, haunting my every move. 

My breaking point came in July when I was sat down and informed that I was not meeting a single expectation. This was shocking, as until that point my feedback was nothing but positive. How could I explain to my boss that I had spent the past five months just trying to hold myself together and that the conditions of my job only made me feel worse? How could I convince her that this wasn’t me and I didn’t recognize myself either? I couldn’t. You can't bring your personal problems to work. So I sat and took it and resolved to take my life into my own hands. 

But it is so scary to admit that your life is no one's but your own. Taking the next step into the dark is horrifying. I knew I needed to improve and that taking any step forward was better than staying where I was at my lowest. 

I met with a psychologist who lightly suggested that I had OCD (though my current therapist and I have agreed that it is only, ‘only,’ severe health anxiety). She strongly suggested I start medication. So I did. I also started CBT to try and re-teach my brain how to get through an anxiety attack without relying on safety checks. I am actively fighting against a raging WebMD addiction  

The medication helps me put my thoughts at bay. Instead of consuming my entire essence, my meds help me rationalize and take a deep breath. The thoughts aren't gone and I am fairly sure anxiety will be my lifelong companion, but I can get better at accepting them and moving on. 

And move on I did. I found a new job, one I really truly love. Until finding this gig I was convinced that everyone who loved their job was lying. Of course, nothing is perfect, but I feel respected at my new job. People want to hear what I have to say and they welcome my intelligence with open arms. They accept my quirks and push me to use my skillsets. I get to see the world. I get to meet people who are way smarter than me and learn from them. I feel fulfilled at my new job. 

I am working on myself, one day at a time. 

I have friends that love me and family that is proud of me. 

I have Humphrey, who exhibits a tenacity I could only dream of matching.

I have an apartment in the cutest part of the city (in my opinion). 

I have Goose and a Nespresso machine and a soccer team. 

I have music.

I have freedom to travel and explore. 

Sure, I still am followed by my fears and worries. I readily await the day I am not constantly stalked by anxiety, and am hopeful that day is on the horizon. 

2023 sucked SO badly. 

It pushed me to the lowest point I have ever been. It trapped me in a dark hole that I was unsure I would come out of. The year made me feel crazy and stupid and unworthy. And through it all I have found a strength within myself; a desire to not give up on myself. I have shown myself what I am capable of. I kept pushing and pushing and pushing and will continue to do so.

Nobody knows what 2024 has in store, but I am hopeful, and that is something I haven't felt in quite a long time. 

To those who are struggling to find the light but hopeful that it must persist,

Sam