About Me

My name is Jenna, and I have anxiety.

I have had it for years, longer than I can remember (or so my therapist believes). Multiple life traumas have changed the way that my body and brain process emotions. In the beginning, it was panic attacks. I don’t know if any of you have ever had a panic attack; they are different for everybody. For me my hands start to shake. I get an adrenaline rush that feels like my chest is on fire. My breathing becomes shallow. My eyes start darting around the room for a way out. Overtime with medication and the help of a counselor, I was able to get the panic attacks under control.

I still have anxiety. It is a part of me. It is something that I have to learn to work with, instead of against.

My anxiety is now starting to display itself in a whole new fashion. Now my emotions are starting to take too much control. They don’t fit the scenario. They are dramatic and over the top. I never know when or how it will happen. Sometimes I cry for seemingly no reason. Sometimes I yell over the most idiotic thing. I know this, but I can’t stop my mouth.

I know that it will take time to get through this new anxiety as well. It’s hard. I have learned a lot through my personal journey through anxiety and mental health in general. This is another lesson that I will have to learn. I am ready to learn.

I am starting to feel a calling. This is something I’ve heard other people say, but I have never felt this strongly about it before. I want to help others to know that they are not alone in this. There are others that feel the same way that you do. There are also others that are willing to help you. You have to be willing to help yourself and move forward with your life.

When that nurse stared at me in the emergency room and said, “I will help you,” I knew she meant it. I knew from that moment on that I was going to get better. It was a long road I was about to travel. That I knew. There was no magic pill or instant fix. I had to work, and I mean hard.

There were days when I didn’t leave my house. There were nights when my husband was at work and I would have panic attacks. My mom would come over in her pajamas and sit with me until my husband came home from work. I wasn’t eating. I wasn’t doing anything. Slowly things started to get better.

Going through all of that makes me realize that I am strong enough to get through this new version of anxiety. Notice that you never see me say “cure.” There is no cure. I still have panic attacks. I know how to manage them better; and I will also learn how to manage this new anxiety as well.

Feel free to follow along on my journey. Feel free to share your own. My mission is to take the stigma off mental health through blogging, social media and education. Mental help is something that more people should talk about.

Let’s start a discussion…