The opinions expressed in The Lawrentian are those of the students, faculty and community members who wrote them. The Lawrentian does not endorse any opinions piece except for the staff editorial, which represents a majority of the editorial board. The Lawrentian welcomes everyone to submit their own opinions. For the full editorial policy and parameters for submitting articles, please refer to the About section.
Over the years, many people have asked me whether I would choose to live without my generalized anxiety disorder if given the option. My answer is always no. That may be unusual to people, but I wouldn’t know who I am without it. I’m not saying it wholly defines me, but it does influence what I do and who I am. I have never experienced a world without it — the ever-present voice in my head that propels me to strive for perfection. My life would feel eerily calm and disorienting without that internal dialogue pushing me forward. In a strange yet comforting way, it’s like having a ghost that constantly haunts me. The ghost scares me from time to time, but it never fails to protect me in times of need. It won’t always protect me from myself, but it does protect me from danger. I’m not going to sit here and write that anxiety is all roses because it sure does have a lot of thorns. However, anxiety can be a secret superpower once you learn how to control it.
Navigating the thorns of anxiety has been a long and challenging journey for me. I’ve never known a life free from anxiety, yet as a child, I didn’t even have a word to describe what I was experiencing. The first time I truly confronted the depths of my anxiety was at the tender age of six. When my teacher asked us to create flashcards for vocabulary — a task that seemed straightforward to most children — I unwittingly transformed it into an overwhelming ordeal. If I made a mistake or went slightly off the lines, rather than erasing it, I would start all over with a new card, obsessively striving for perfection in my handwriting. This need for flawlessness triggered intense dry heaving and tears. At that moment, I didn’t understand that I was having a panic attack; it felt as though I was dying, and the mere thought of death sent my anxiety spiraling even further. My mother, bewildered and frightened by my sudden upheaval, struggled to grasp how her 6-year-old could be so consumed by fear over something as innocuous as flashcards. She couldn’t fathom me wrestling with the idea of inadequacy at such a young age. I never realized that that wasn’t normal behavior from people, let alone from a 6-year-old.
Throughout my adolescence, I clung to harmful behaviors and thoughts, sacrificing countless hours of sleep to relentlessly pursue academic and extracurricular perfection. My anxiety convinced me that my worth was tied to achieving an unrealistic standard. In high school, this drive intensified. I enrolled in ten Advanced Placement (AP) classes, yet still felt inadequate. I demanded straight A’s and signed up for nearly every sport — primarily water polo and soccer, but also softball, track, swimming, volleyball and rugby. My love for sports was overshadowed by a need for perfection as I aimed for both starting and captain positions. By junior year, I was juggling AP classes, three sports, a job and an internship. Despite my accomplishments, I never felt like I was enough. I became my own harshest critic, believing that I needed to excel in everything to earn love and approval, battling fears of failure, humiliation and rejection.
At 17, as my panic attacks and perfectionism had reached a new level of extreme, my mom urged me to seek help. My irritability stemmed from overwhelming intrusive thoughts. After consulting a doctor and a therapist, I was diagnosed with general anxiety disorder, which provided relief after years of struggle. I learned effective coping mechanisms and how to anticipate and manage my panic attacks. In my first session, I cried, finally feeling understood. My therapist reframed anxiety as a potential strength, suggesting it could be a ‘secret superpower’ when approached differently. She helped me see that, despite its discomfort, my anxiety contributed to my academic success and extracurricular achievements. It also enhanced my intuition, allowing me to gauge people and situations effectively, and helping me navigate peer pressure by recognizing when to say no. She mentioned that anxiety often accompanies heightened awareness. I came to understand that I possess a unique ability to notice even the smallest details in my own life and in my friendships, all born from my desire to be the best friend I can be. While my tendency to overly stress about the future can feel overwhelming at times, it has also sharpened my ability to prepare and plan effectively. This trait has proven invaluable for me both academically and professionally, as it drives me to anticipate challenges and strategize solutions.
Moreover, anxiety has served as a powerful catalyst for my creativity. I’ve learned to channel my anxious energy into my writing, finding solace and expression in the written word. This process not only helps me cope but also allows me to explore complex emotions and ideas more deeply. In addition to writing, I’ve cultivated several coping mechanisms that enrich my life. I adore my library of books, where reading has become a sanctuary for me — an escape into different worlds and perspectives. Music, too, plays a pivotal role in my emotional landscape. While I may not be musically gifted myself, my passion for music is profound. I have a collection of songs that resonate deeply with my experiences, and I enjoy constructing Spotify playlists that reflect my emotions at any given moment. Over the years, I’ve even built a record collection that serves as a musical diary of my life. I don’t think I would appreciate the beauty of literature and music had it not been for my anxiety.
Although I’ve made strides in managing my anxiety and cultivating self-compassion, I still grapple with overthinking, the nagging fear that others dislike me and the relentless pursuit of perfection. I often find myself needing to counter the lies my anxiety feeds me. Yet, despite these challenges, I wouldn’t change my life for a second. In many ways, I am grateful for my anxiety, as it has played a significant role in shaping the person I am today.