I came across this open letter to people in any type of relationship with a person who suffers from an anxiety disorder. It so perfectly captures the experiences. If you suffer from GAD or know someone who does, this letter will truly help your perspective, and hopefully your relationship. Because as she puts it, your friendship can mean the difference between drowning or keeping our head above water.  

Let me start by clarifying something. When I refer to my “anxiety”, I am not simply talking about my fears or situations that make me nervous. I’m not talking about the kind of anxiousness that everyone experiences throughout their life. I am talking about Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD)- a mental condition which affects nearly every aspect of my life in one way or another.

You’ve probably noticed my nervous behaviors. Bailing on plans at the last minute, making excuses to stay at home, chewed nails, sudden crying, shortness of breath, restlessness, fearing new situations, inability to go places alone. Panic attacks.

I try to hide my struggling, but I know you see it. You see it because you care. And because you care, you often try to help.

I’m writing this letter, because I want to be fair to you. I want you to understand what my anxiety is and what it feels like.

Anxiety feels like an ocean. When it hits, I struggle to keep my head above the water. It’s overwhelming and every single moment feels like I’m one breath away from drowning. It’s so big, so vast, and it extends further than I can possibly see. The water is dark and heavy. And the more I struggle against it all, the rougher the waves get.

The words “calm down” force me to struggle against my anxiety even more. And the water rises even more.

If I could stop my anxiety, I would have done so by now. These emotions are not a choice, or something that I have invited into my life. I am not a victim, but I am certainly not a willing participant.

I know you want to help me, but you can’t help me rationalize these feelings I’ve spent my whole life trying to understand. Irrational fears and emotions cannot be understood. Instead, try this: When my anxiety is pulling me under, let me know that you see my struggle, even if you don’t understand it. Listen to me, hug me, just be there, even in silence. Most importantly, know that you can’t fix me or make my anxiety go away. I want you to be my friend, not my therapist. I will never put those kinds of expectations on you.

I wish you didn’t have to deal with this; ironically, you seem to feel the same way about me. So this is a learning process for both of us. I promise to continue finding new ways to cope with my anxiety. In return, I simply ask that you keep being my friend, even if I don’t always deserve it. Friendships like ours are often what keep my head just above the water. And that means everything to me.

So thank you, friend. Thank you for being there.