Who Needs Jump Scares When You Have An Anxiety Disorder?

I've always hated scary movies anyway.

I’ve always hated scary movies. I don’t need a jump scare to get my adrenaline going thank you very much.

Instead I have a 14-year-old boy that does that for me on the regular. His favorite thing is hiding around corners and scaring his mom. I frequently come in through the front door after running an errand finally able to relax in the comfort of my own home, and my son is hiding waiting to get that heart rate going again.

Or I go into the bathroom only to be greeted by a “rawr!” upon exiting, and hysterical laughing. Apparently jumping out at your mom is free entertainment.

Me coming out of my bathroom.

Recently - I was picking my husband up from work and sitting in the parking lot looking at my phone while I waited. When I looked up, I saw him 10 feet away from the car and about jumped out of my own skin. He was just walking. To the car.

I got diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder by a therapist about 10 years ago, but in reality my husband diagnosed me 15 years ago when he was in graduate school.

The tell-tale sign? I scared easily. Like REALLY easily.

Although according to the DSM 5, there’s a lot more to it than that. I am a textbook case.

For me, understanding my diagnosis with a label has given me understanding.

Interestingly enough, since starting graduate school myself and learning the clinician’s side of things, I’ve been thinking about labels and how they might impact people.

When I was told I had GAD and OCD I was like, “AAAAHHHH.”

Suddenly my world made sense. What was going on in my body and mind made sense. What was going on in my experience of being a mother made sense.

To me, a diagnostic label seemed like a life vest. I suddenly had a better understanding of why I had felt like I was drowning in adulthood all these years.

However, some people argue that diagnosing with labels does more harm than good.

The argument is that the labels can become a self-fulfilling prophecy for clients, or bias a therapist or doctor that might be working with you.

From my own personal experience, I certainly didn’t become more anxious because of the label. Instead, I had a newfound understanding of how to overcome this thing going on in my brain that was impacting literally everything in my life.

Getting a label also made me want to get some tools.

It was interesting how that life vest thrown my way in the form of a label gave me the motivation to better understand myself.

It gave me the ability to give myself grace when things felt like too much. This didn’t mean throwing my hands in the air and saying “Oh well! You have anxiety so you better just sit over in that corner and keep being anxious.”

Instead, I was able to beautiful things to myself like -

It’s OK you’re struggling right now. You deserve a break.

You’re a good mom even though this is hard for you.

You will get through this. Just keep hanging on. It’s just temporary.

When a bad cycle of anxiety came my way, I was able to recognize it and use my own strengths to get through it with tools I had learned in therapy.

I had tools.

Deep breathing. Meditation. Medication. Self-care.

Thankfully, my own experience of getting a label has been mostly a positive one.

Don’t get me wrong, there are days where my brain has a little pity party about it all and imagine blowing out those candles and wishing I was a person that didn’t have any mental health issues.

But, then I wouldn’t be me. And, to be honest I don’t like that idea at all.

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Have you received a mental health diagnosis label? How was it for you? Liberating? Terrifying? I’d love to know.

Also don’t forget to grab my book, The Mother Load if you like conversations like these about motherhood, the mental load, and mental health.