May is Mental Health Awareness Month. Many people are aware of mental illnesses like anxiety, but for those who have never experienced the illness in full force, it is highly misunderstood. Anxiety started to get a lot of attention as anxiety medication drugs, like Xanax, were increasingly abused by young adults. The abuse of these medications made seeking help for anxiety difficult. No one knew who needed it or who was trying to get high. Many people also mocked those with anxiety and called them weak through memes on the internet.

My own struggles with anxiety began when I was a child. I grew up in a chaotic home where there was a lot to be anxious about. Unlike the homes of my friends, nothing was stable or guaranteed. I could get picked up from school, or no one would show. I could have a nice birthday party or my mother could humiliate me in front of my friends and their parents. These instances became the building blocks of my chronic anxiety and a 20 year struggle to correct it.

When I was in school, I had a hard time socializing. I could not just raise my hand to ask for permission for the bathroom. I overthought it and would fight with the demons until the opportunity presented itself naturally. I refer to them as demons because that is what it is. It is voices in your head that you cannot control that tell you horrible things about yourself. Like a devil on your shoulder, feeding your negativity, that doesn't sleep. I had a hard time socializing with other kids and knew they thought I was weird. When I became a teenager people used to tease me and call me mute. When I spoke, I spoke very quietly. I was so anxious that people would think that I was weird that I would rather not talk at all.

The only time I could ever tame my demons, was when I consumed alcohol.

At first, drinking muted the demons, even if only for a few hours. I would be able to be the person I knew I could be. I could talk to people, get wild, dance, etc. All things I would never do sober. The thrills did not last long and the alcohol would intensify the anxiety in the morning. Slowly but surely, I could no longer get out of bed. I felt nauseous and sick to my stomach (not from the hangover but the anxiety alone).

People often ask me what anxiety feels like. It feels like the day before a big test you are unprepared for or awaiting court sentencing. It is the feeling of butterflies in your stomach, feeling nauseous, and wanting to have a breakdown and run away. Except I would not just feel this way before a big test. I would feel this way about asking a sales associate where the bathroom was or answering a phone call. I felt like I wanted to rip out of my skin; I would claw myself as a coping measure.

Over the next five years, it did not get better, it got worst. The first time I tried to see a psychiatrist my doctor would not even refer me to one. She told me that there was "no magic pill" and that I would have to figure it out on my own. I was 17-years-old at the time and felt like she thought I was just looking for a Xanax prescription. I went to a different doctor and told her that I felt nauseated and explained my symptoms. She made me take a pregnancy test and did not refer me to a specialist. After this, I self-medicated for almost seven years. Psychiatrist after psychiatrist gave me the same annoying answer. I would re-tell my story and they would say the root to my demons can be blamed on parents — well duh.

Self-medicating through alcohol would just make everything worse. It is three hours of freedom and three days of consequences. I started to have panic attacks daily. I could not do daily tasks like read my emails or even articles I have written without giving myself a pep talk beforehand. I oftentimes needed friends to read them for me and direct me when I needed to act on something. I had nightmares every single night. There was nowhere that I felt safe. I was so scared to fall asleep because I would wake up in a panic after a vivid nightmare. I felt so trapped in my skin. As if I was in a prison being tortured.

No one could see what I was going through, but they could see the bruises.

Anxiety is a mental illness. However, I don't think it is all mental. Anxiety makes me feel physically sick. Everyone knows when someone has severe anxiety. They wear it like a disease. It is a part of you. The only difference with any other disease that it is not given the respect that it deserves. There are no races or Facebook frames. We don't have a logo or silicone wristbands. Surviving Chronic Social Anxiety and General Anxiety Disorder (there are two and I have both) is just as meritorious as surviving any other disease. I am proud to say that I got through it and I wish more people expressed that pride.

I wish I had a better answer to how I tamed my demons. It is a combination of many things. I moved from my hometown of Honolulu to Chicago which distances me from things that I had anxiety about. Secondly, I am in an amazing relationship with someone who treats me great and is supportive. Third, this amazing person and I are creating an even more amazing little person. Having a baby will never solve all of your problems, but it made me quit drinking alcohol and caffeine which are both triggers. I also think a hormone change may have something to do with it, but I cannot be certain.

I still have anxiety but it is at a much healthier level. The thought of giving birth (which I will do any second now) is terrifying. Except, I can go through my day and not think about it. It doesn't keep me bed bound and it does not give me irrational thoughts. Anxiety doesn't control every aspect of my life anymore and I finally feel like it's my life. Now that I know what normalcy feels like, I encourage anyone suffering from anxiety to seek help and commit to getting it. Nothing compares to emotional freedom.