It’s 4 a.m., and I’m awake. It’s a Tuesday. I have class in four hours. I need to finish my essay. I’m really tired, but I have to finish my essay. My stomach rumbles in hunger, but I can’t bear to eat. I need to finish this essay. But why aren’t they texting me? Was it something I said? Do they hate me? I’m so hungry. I need to stop thinking and finish everything. My chest tightens and my eyes well up with tears. I sit in bed at 4 a.m. with all my lights on and sob. I sob and I can’t stop. The world feels heavy and I can’t stop crying. But the essay.  

That’s what my chronic anxiety feels like. My thoughts race and repeat themselves. I perseverate on things until they feel numb. Then it’s on to the next thought. It’s worse when I drink alcohol or don’t eat, or both. It’s the worst when I don’t sleep. When I sleep, take my meds, and go to therapy once a week, I feel better. 

I used to hate when people said, “You’re not alone.” I was convinced no one understood what I was going through. The truth was I never asked. Once I began having conversations with my friends about mental health, I realized we all really need to talk about it. 

Anxiety is a liar. It lies to us about what we see, hear, and feel, about our abilities and relationships. Anxiety feels like a transparent glass box we’re trapped in: we can see everything, but it all seems inaccessible. 

I asked a friend what her anxiety feels like. She says, “It’s never just a feeling. My stomach turns, and I feel a lump in my chest.” 

One of my other friends says, “When I’m anxious, I feel like the world is closing in on me. I can never really catch a full breath for the entire day.” 

Anxiety is debilitating, so how do we cope in an overwhelming college setting? When I asked some of my peers what strategies they recommend, they said, “Always start with finding a distraction.” For some people, that distraction is academic. I like to get outdoors, put on shoes and go for a walk outside. My peers have said that they have “comfort shows” they watch when anxiety strikes. 

My neighbor says, “When I’m having a difficult week, I binge watch Shameless. The characters face challenges that make my own stuff feel less significant.” 

We all have that show, movie, or book that brings us peace when we need it. There are countless other immediate strategies that can also be effective. Taking a shower is a good first step to get through an anxious day. It can feel revitalizing, and it's a good excuse to get out of bed. Another step is to reach out to a friend. One of your friends is definitely hungry or in desperate need of coffee. Challenge yourself to reach out and nourish your body. One of my personal favorite coping skills is looking at pictures of my pets. I have photo albums of my cat to prove it. This last strategy is by far the most challenging. However, channeling your anxiety into creativity can also be effective. Take your emotions and transform them into art. Paint, draw, sing, dance. Take advantage of how healing and fun it is. 

When in doubt, have a go-to list of people to call when you need to talk. They are people  you can call that will: 

a.) pick up 

b.) listen to you carefully and kindly

c.) know when to offer support

In my experience, the only way I can get through an anxious day is to feel everything. We are told to be impervious to little things that set us off. I used to feel ashamed of my anxiety and how I let it affect me. So now, I embrace it and feel it all. If I need to cry, I will. If I need to watch hours of Schitt’s Creek, I will. I call my parents! Do not be ashamed of any and all feelings. We cannot control when anxious feelings arise; we should not have to control how our bodies respond. 

Anxiety is isolating above all else. You could be in a room full of people and feel alone. Odds are you're around people who are trapped in their own glass boxes. Don’t let yourself hide away. Break down the walls.