Anxiety & Animals: You Say "Crazy," I Say "Coping"

Something really cool happened earlier this week. Buzzfeed – the company behind those addicting listicles and “Which __ Are You?” quizzes – used its reach on the web to bring attention to something really, really, really important. Something no one ever wants to talk about, even though talking about it is exactly what we should be doing.

Mental health.

All week long, Buzzfeed has been inundating our social media feeds with content designed to raise awareness about mental health issues. I hope you took the time to read/watch some of it. Partly because I think they do a great job of explaining it in a way that's both relatable and easy-to-understand. Also because these issues are more common than you think. They come in all shapes and sizes. Sometimes, it’s obvious someone is suffering. Other times, you’d never know anything is wrong. For many of us, the battle we’re fighting is an internal one. Because talking about it makes it real. And that makes it scary.

Yes, I said “us.” I’ve been dealing with anxiety for years. Fortunately, I’ve found ways to manage it, so I’m able to live a full, happy life. But getting to this point hasn’t been easy. Let me try to explain what anxiety feels like for me. (Just remember – anxiety manifests itself differently in different people, so my experience may be completely unlike yours.)

For me, anxiety is a constant sense of worry. All day, every day –  from the moment I wake up until the moment I fall asleep – my mind is screaming, “What if ?!??”

Oh no! I overslept again. What if I’m late for work?
What if I forgot to turn my hair straightener off?
What if I forget to pay that bill that’s due this week?
What if I can’t pay my bills this month?
I don’t understand this assignment. What if my boss regrets hiring me?
I just said something awkward to a married colleague. What if he thinks I’m flirting with him?
There’s a cute guy at the coffee shop. I can’t flirt with him – what if he thinks I’m fat?
What if I never lose weight?
What if my sister picks out a bridesmaid dress that looks terrible on me?
My friend wants to meet up for dinner. My turn to choose the spot. But what if she doesn’t really want to eat there and is only agreeing to be nice?
What if there’s nothing on the menu that I like? I'll look online and decide what to order now.
Going to dinner means I’ll be home later than usual. What if my cats get hungry? 
I don’t have a DVR anymore. What if going to dinner means I’ll miss my favorite show?
I keep eating crap that tastes good and skipping the gym. What if I have a heart attack in my 30s?
Mom’s calling. She never calls me. I always call her. What if someone’s sick or hurt or worse?
The cat won’t snuggle with me. What if she hates me for staying out late?
What if I sleep through my alarm in the morning?

That is only a tiny fraction of what goes through my head on a typical day. My mind is always buzzing with doubt, worry and the overwhelming fear of being judged for it. The What If Monster has become an unwelcome, but integral part of my life – like a terrifying Teddy Ruxpin on my shoulder that only spews doubt and doesn’t have an “off” switch.

The rational part of me knows 99 percent of these worries are irrational. That I unplugged the straightening iron because I’m OCD about it. That my boss has told me multiple times how happy she is to have me on the team. That my sister would never ask me to wear a dress that makes me uncomfortable. That my friend would never agree to go to dinner somewhere if she didn’t want to eat there. I know these things, but I still worry about them. I can’t turn it off.

I can’t turn it off, but I have learned to quiet it down. About two-and-a-half years ago, I started having panic attacks. I couldn’t catch my breath. I couldn’t focus. My mind would race, even more than it does on any other day. Sometimes, I would cry – no, sob – uncontrollably. The “what ifs” and the doubt would rise to a level so intense, so loud, that it blocked everything else out. The panic attacks were debilitating. I would shut down entirely. And while I’m by no means a control freak, I couldn’t accept the idea of not being in control of my own mind. So I decided to start seeing to a therapist. I talked to a friend who recommended her psychologist and I started seeing her on a regular basis.

Together, we talked about what was going on and what was triggering the attacks. It turned out to be a combination of two things: a particularly manipulative/emotionally abusive guy I was seeing at the time and my incredibly high-stress job. I ditched the douchebag immediately, and eventually found the courage to leave my job for a new career path. The decision to remove these toxic triggers from my life was one of the best I’ve ever made. I haven’t had a panic attack since.

As for the constant worry, I cope with that in a few ways. Sometimes, meditation or breathing exercises help. Staying busy and surrounding myself with people who accept me for who I am, flaws and all, also helps. So does getting wrapped up in a good book. But the thing that helps the most – the thing that brings me the most peace, the most happiness and can quiet the What If Monster the most effectively – is spending time with animals. It’s also, sadly, the thing for which I get the most grief.

Anyone who knows me knows I like animals. A LOT. I have two cats that have become the center of my world. They have their own Instagram account, occupy the only picture frame on my desk at work and are my absolute favorite conversation topic. So, it's not surprising that I've become known as "The Crazy Cat Lady" among my friends and colleagues. When I say it about myself, I'm just joking. When my friends say it, they're kidding around too. Most of the time. Sometimes though, I can tell you’re judging, not joking. Maybe you don't think I notice. Maybe you don't care. But maybe you should. Because being a “crazy cat lady” is the thing that helps me cope with my actual “crazy.”

When I adopted my girls from local animal shelters, they rescued me as much as I rescued them. I know it’s cliché, but it’s true. Because they make me happy in a way that no person ever has. That’s not to say my friends and family don’t make me happy – they absolutely do! But with animals, it’s much simpler. There’s no judgment, no bias, no malice. With animals, you get what you give: in this case, unconditional love. Loads of it.

                                                                                                           

Think about it this way: What’s the opposite of being worried? Being happy. Duh. For me (and many others, I would imagine), happiness is inextricably linked to feeling loved.

Every morning, my alarm goes off. Calliope hears that alarm, immediately gets up and climbs onto the pillow with me. She purrs at the top of her lungs, licks my nose and my ear (so gross, yet oddly endearing) and nuzzles me affectionately until I finally get up. Every night, I set my alarm, turn off the light and roll onto my side to sleep. Within ten minutes, Cleo curls up behind my knees or in front of my stomach and sleeps by my side all night long. During the day, they’re usually being their silly selves, playing and doing dumb shit that makes me laugh uncontrollably. The joy that these two furballs bring to my life has proven itself to be the one thing that never fails to quiet my racing, worried mind.

Snuggles on the couch with my girls

In September, I started volunteering at a shelter, working exclusively with...wait for it...dogs. (Not what you were expecting, was it? Ha!) I volunteer for a non-profit group that works primarily with pit bulls. I've always wanted a dog (or two), but due to financial constraints/antiquated apartment restrictions, I haven't been able to adopt, or even foster, one yet. I've had a soft spot for pitties ever since my brother adopted one a few years ago.

Just a few of the cuties I've met since I
started volunteering at the shelter

Over the past few months, I have met, walked and played with dozens of dogs. Each one is different, but they're all wonderful in their own way. Two dogs in particular occupy most of my thoughts these days: Charlotte and Cookie. Yes, I have favorites, but so does everyone else. Most volunteers gravitate towards the obvious choices: the silly dogs with big personalities, the smarties who are quick to learn new tricks or the lovebugs who dole out kisses by the dozen. And that's great - those dogs should get all the attention they deserve. But as I much as I love those pups, I gravitate toward the ones that tend to get overlooked.

Charlotte

I met Charlotte about a month ago. She was timid and shy and each time I would take her out of her kennel for a walk, she started shaking in fear. With lots of patience, praise, chicken (what we use in lieu of treats) and kisses, this gorgeous girl quickly learned she could trust me. Even though it only lasted as long as our walks, seeing her come out of her shell long enough to snuggle and wag her tail made my heart happy. Charlotte is now with a foster family and while I miss our walks, I'm so glad she's out of the scary shelter.

Cookie in her kennel

Then, last week, I met Cookie. When I got to her kennel to take her for a walk, she was so happy to see me. Tail wagging, walking in circles around me, she clearly wasn't scared of people. But the minute we got into the hallway, she froze and started shaking. After sweet-talk and chicken failed to convince her to move, I had to carry all 30+ pounds of her outside. Even then, she was still scared, only walking a few feet before she stopped again. I sat quietly with her for a while, giving her lots of hugs and kisses, before I had to carry her back. Turns out, it’s the leash that makes her nervous. So this week, I took her to a fenced-in area where I could take the leash off. And man, did she light up! This happy little girl walked and walked and walked, sniffing everything, eating all the chicken I gave her and giving me snuggles and kisses galore. Again, seeing this scared little pup come out of her shell, even for just a little while, made my heart melt.

Why do I gravitate toward dogs like these who seem scared or unsure? Simple. Because I relate to them. Every ounce of me wants to show them that they are safe. That they are loved. That it's okay to be their silly, affectionate selves. Because with everything I worry about, I constantly need to be reminded of those things myself. By working with these dogs, I’m also working with my anxiety, reminding myself that while the What If Monster may not have an “off” switch, there is a way to turn down the volume.

So the next time I start talking about my cats or the dogs I walked last night, maybe skip the judgy, she’s-talking-about-animals-again eye-roll and look past your preconceptions. Then look up something called Animal-Assisted Therapy (AAT). It’s a real thing – animals including dogs, cats, horses and even dolphins help treat a range of conditions including anxiety disorders. I no longer see my psychologist because I’ve learned to manage my anxiety on my own, in part, by surrounding myself with furry therapists. But also by surrounding myself with people who are okay with that…and with me, just as I am.

Remember: Just because you can’t hear the noise inside my head, doesn’t mean it isn’t there. Here is some more information on anxiety disorders and some great listicles from Buzzfeed’s Mental Health Week that can help explain anxiety further.

AnxietyDisorders - National Institute of Mental Health

11 Things People With Anxiety Want You To Know - Buzzfeed

24Comics That Capture The Frustration Of Anxiety Disorders - Buzzfeed

17Charts That Will Speak To You If You Have Social Anxiety - Buzzfeed