Painting of Micaela Sisco by CASA student Mady Ho.
The subway car smells dirty. Indistinct faces swirl in and out of focus. Bodies clamber into view, filling the aisle.
It’s getting warm, uncomfortably so. I don’t know anyone here, they don’t know me. Except my dad. He sits still beside me like a rock. I take a deep breath to settle my nerves. The door slides open, and more bodies file in. Suddenly my vision lilts, the light narrows and my pulse quickens. I whip around to face my dad, but I can’t see him. Everything feels hazy, and I cannot take a full breath. I plunge my head into his broad shoulder, trying to hide from my fears. Stifled, guttural sobs emanate from somewhere deep inside my soul. Finally, we jolt to a stop. The masses begin the exodus, but you better believe I got out first, sprinting to get up to where there was sunlight and fresh air.
And thus we learned that I suffer from moderate claustrophobia.
People with claustrophobia constantly devise an escape plan. When they walk into a room, they check for windows and doors, any sign of the outside. The Medical News Today website defines a phobia as “a kind of anxiety disorder in which the sufferer has a relentless dread of a situation, living creature, place or thing.” When confronted with a stressor, the sufferer exhibits many of the following physical symptoms: trembling, twitching, shaking, the feeling of fullness in the throat or tightness in the chest, increased heart rate, light-headedness, agitation and/or inability to catch a full breath. These indicate anxiety, a normal reaction to stress. But the source of the stress is not.
According to the Anxiety and Depression Association of America, “Anxiety disorders are the most common mental illness in the U.S., affecting 40 million adults in the United States age 18 and older.” Anxiety and depression often go hand-in-hand. People with a phobia will go to great lengths to avoid that which they fear or dread. They are careful not to incite the distress that revolves around their phobia.
Four years later, I’ve come to understand my triggers. So, here I am, a high school senior. I stroll into class as usual. My science teacher is gone; a frumpy blonde substitute sits in his place. An interruption, an irregular step in my daily life. The already unfriendly grey walls glare threateningly. With haste, I snatch laptop number nine and skitter from the room. Almost. Her voice rings out.
“Where are you going?”
I explain that I work in the hallway every day, a little snappy because her intrusive tone further disrupts my pattern. My palms begin to sweat: step one of a panic attack.
“Look, I have crippling claustrophobia, OK?”
It isn’t actually crippling, but the longer I stay in that windowless room, the more uncomfortable I get, the more I really, really, really need to leave: step two. Half of me knows, though, that my oncoming panic is irrational. That’s a part of the struggle, acknowledging that what’s happening is illogical and still not being able to stop it or calm down. Insensitive people only add to the panic.
“This is a pretty big room,” she says.
The pain in my heart feels strong enough to break down walls. Yes, I know the actual size of the room, but I have this irrational fear of windowless rooms, so this place actually looks quite small to me. My throat tightens. I take a raggedy breath, grit my teeth and stumble out of the now spinning room, without answering her.
There are eight major anxiety disorders. Generalized Anxiety Disorder, worrying about everything all the time, affects 6.8 million adults in the United States. Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, performing ritualistic behaviors, occurs in 2.2 million adults. Six million adults have Panic Disorder, spontaneous fits of panic. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, periodically freaking out over a personal and terrifying event of the past, grabs hold of 7.7 million. Fifteen million adults suffer from Social Anxiety Disorder, 18.9 million have Major Depressive Disorder, and 3.3 million live with Dysthymic Disorder (chronic minor depression). There are also 19 million American adults who have specific phobias that prevent them from doing normal human things, like interacting with other humans or going out into public.
My best friend since first grade, Sarah Smith for anonymity, is one such sufferer. She was recently diagnosed by the Philhaven Mental and Behavioral Health Care Providers with agoraphobia (fear of going out in public), Dysthymia, Major Depressive Disorder, Social Anxiety Disorder and Generalized Anxiety Disorder. Her caregivers (a medical worker or allied health professional who assists in the management of an illness or disability) decided that her hallucinations she had as a part of her anxiety were not severe and did not erupt often enough to classify as psychosis.
“I can’t remember a time when I didn’t have anxiety,” she confesses. In second grade, her parents got divorced. The depression started then. Since that time, her life has been a constant cycle of terrible guilt and fear, which progressively worsened until an attempted suicide on Sept. 17, 2013, after which she decided to admit herself as an inpatient at Philhaven, a very difficult decision indeed. The day began quietly. She knew what she must do: she sent out a few goodbye texts to her closest friends then drove with her father to the psychiatrist’s office to explain her predicament. Smith was honest with the psychiatrist, spared no detail. The psychiatrist sent Smith to the emergency room of the Penn State Medical Center in Harrisburg, where she met with the crisis evaluation team multiple times and filled out copious amounts of paperwork, only to be transferred to Philhaven and do it all again. At last, 12 hours later, she could lie down and try to rest in the safety of the facility.
Anxiety can be treated many different ways. The first step is to acknowledge that you have a problem, the hardest part. Once you take that step and seek help, you have two options. Mayo Clinic recommends psychotherapy, specifically cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT). Smith visits a therapist once a week, who employs CBT and dialectal behavioral therapy (DBT), and a psychiatrist once a month. Also, numerous medications treat forms and symptoms of anxiety. Smith takes three: Trazodone for sleeping, Lorazepam for extreme anxiety and Zoloft for depression. She believes, though, the people around her set her on the right track.
“With the right support group, you can get better!” she says, hugging me.
For more information on anxiety disorders, visit the National Institute of Mental Health website at https://www.nimh.nih.gov/health/publications/anxiety-disorders/index.shtml. Your local doctor’s office will also have pamphlets filled with recommendations for treatment, medication or otherwise. The most important thing to remember is you are not alone.
Micaela Sisco is a senior at Capital Area School for the Arts (CASA).
