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There is a lot of stigma surrounding mental illness. While there is still a great deal that is not understood about it, we know a lot more than we used to, and people are talking about it far more often. This is a good thing. The more we learn and discuss and understand, the more we can help those affected by mental illness - both those who struggle with mental disorders and the loved ones who support them.

I think part of the mystery and confusion about mental illness is that so often people think it's purely a mental issue. This is not the case. Almost every single mental illness comes with physical manifestations. While the root of the problem may be in the brain, the symptoms are often very physical in nature. Additionally, the same mental illness may manifest differently in different people. This is part of the reason why diagnosing psychological disorders is so complicated, and why they are often misdiagnosed or the person suffering is told that "it's all in your head."

Here's my story.

I have struggled with some major health problems for a number of years. My symptoms were all over the place - sore, achy joints, a pounding, racing heart, trouble breathing, uncontrollable trembling, low blood pressure, dizzy spells, chest pain, hives, tingling and numbness in my hands and face... the list goes on. Some days were so bad I

In recent months, my symptoms have become even worse. My family and I have been under a great deal of stress and I'm sure they were exacerbated by that. In any case, the severity of my symptoms once again led me to seek more medical advice and counsel. Heart disease runs in my family (both my parents, all my siblings, and all my grandparents have it or died from it), and even though I've had numerous tests, I've been terrified that it's been something to do with my heart and we won't find out until it's too late.

I finally met with a great practitioner who looked over my whole medical history, asked some very pointed questions, had me take some mental health surveys, conducted a few further blood tests, and came to me with a surprising diagnosis: "You have anxiety. More specifically, a severe form known as panic disorder." 

I have several friends and a few family members who suffer from generalized anxiety disorder - the most common form of anxiety. I have a few friends who also have social anxiety. I know what those two disorders look like and feel like for them, and I never really associated my symptoms and my "stresses" with anxiety because it's not like that for me. Some things are similar, yes. But panic disorder is also very different. I was at the point where I was having panic attacks almost daily, sometimes several times a day, ranging in severity. But I didn't know they were panic attacks. All I knew was that suddenly my chest would constrict, my lips and fingers would go tingly and numb, and I couldn't get enough oxygen no matter how slowly or calmly I tried to breathe. A few times my symptoms became so severe that I thought I would die. I know, that sounds SO melodramatic, but a severe panic attack truly is a complete mental breakdown. They were the most terrifying things I have ever endured, and that my husband has ever witnessed.

Thought not really in denial at my doctor's declaration, I was surprised and a little hesitant about embracing her diagnosis. I had had so many providers tell me, "Well, you don't have all the symptoms, but it looks like it's probably such-and-such disease, so I'm going to give you some medication to see if it helps and we'll go from there." But I have been in such physical and mental anguish for so long that I was willing to accept her counsel, fill my prescriptions, and do some research.

I was completely blown away by what I found.

I've been reading everything I can on panic disorder and anxiety, and for the first time ever it's all making sense. Every other suggestion and explanation a doctor has given me as to what could be wrong was only somewhat likely at best, since I had some symptoms but not others, and tests results never showed classic markers. But I can checklist every single symptom for panic disorder, and it's been very validating and extremely liberating. I'm relieved to finally know what is wrong. I'm grateful to know there is treatment and help available. And I feel empowered by the knowledge I am gaining about my disease: what it is, what causes it, how it manifests not only in myself but in others, and what steps I can take to improve my quality of life.

A few years ago, one of my very favorite public speakers (Jeffrey R. Holland) addressed the issue of mental illness to a worldwide audience. He said, "However bewildering [mental illness] may be, these afflictions are some of the realities of mortal life, and there should be no more shame in acknowledging them than in acknowledging a battle with high blood pressure or the sudden appearance of a malignant tumor." While I was not diagnosed at the time, his words were powerful and spoke straight to my heart. I have several friends and family members who struggle with various mental illnesses: depression, bipolar disorder, anxiety, and obsessive compulsive disorder, to name a few. I have always been an advocate for mental health awareness, and now that I have joined their ranks, I feel the desire to #endthestigma even more.

Within a few weeks of my diagnosis, the medications kicked in and began lifting the anxiety and panic I have felt for so long. I still can't believe the difference it has made. It's as if I've been wearing a heavy, leaded vest and it has suddenly been lifted off my shoulders. For the first time in months, I can breathe. I'm not eating compulsively or freaking out when something doesn't go as planned. I've noticed a pronounced shift in my attitudes, reactions, and behaviors and it is wonderful. I'm not a new person; it's as if the old me - the real me - has finally been let out of a straightjacket and allowed to walk and think and live and move and be.

Looking back through my life, I've been able to see and recognize how different situations have either exacerbated or relieved much of my symptoms, but it is increasingly clear that I have suffered from this from a relatively young age. Without even being aware of it, I enlisted various coping mechanisms over the years to deal with it, such as the eating disorders I struggled with for over a decade, compulsive spending habits, and other addictive behaviors I developed as time passed. My eating disorders began when I was 14, and my first really severe panic attack came at 19, when I was in college. Since then, though there have been some times of relative ease, my symptoms never fully disappeared, and always resurfaced at some point in the future.

I don't know if I will ever be fully "cured." I hope that I will be. I know that through the atonement of Christ, I can feel peace and be relieved of much of my suffering. But I am also aware that this may be something I struggle with for the rest of my life. For now, I'm just taking it one day at a time.

And what a beautiful day it is.