Living with Generalized Anxiety Disorder: My Experience

I’ve come to realize how calm life can be when you’re not constantly worrying about every little thing as if the weight of the world depended on it. For years, that wasn’t my reality.

I’ve been diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD) and have been on medication for the past few years. I feel like a new person and wish I had written about this sooner, while the experience was fresher. Still, GAD shaped my entire adult life—and possibly even my teenage years—so I know firsthand how much it can take over.

What is Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD)?

Does your mind constantly race with worry, even when there’s no clear reason? That’s what GAD feels like. It’s more than everyday stress—it’s persistent, overwhelming, and exhausting, even when nothing is actually wrong. People with GAD often experience restlessness, trouble focusing, irritability, muscle tension, and poor sleep. If these symptoms stick around most days for six months or more, it could be GAD.

While the exact cause isn’t fully understood, genetics, environment, and life experiences all play a role. The good news? There are effective ways to manage symptoms, whether through therapy, medication, or both. Speaking from experience, I can say that finding the right treatment can truly make a difference.

Living with Anxiety Before Treatment

Ever since I can remember, I’ve felt anxious. My hands would sweat, my mind would race, and my heart would pound for no reason. Simple things—like answering a phone call from an unknown number—felt overwhelming.

Every morning, I had a brief moment of peace—just a few seconds—before my worries kicked in. I’d lie in bed, savoring the stillness, but then, out of nowhere, my mind would start racing. I’d jump up and immediately start doing something—anything—to quiet the unease. I’d rush around the house or the office, juggling tasks, feeling like I was being super productive. In reality, I wasn’t finishing much of anything—just bouncing from one urgent thought to the next, never truly accomplishing anything.

I would replay conversations and events in my head over and over, analyzing every detail. I’d think about what I should have said differently or question the motives behind other people’s actions. This obsessive overthinking affected my personal and romantic relationships, sometimes in ways I didn’t even realize at the time. Looking back now, I see moments that make me think, Wow, I can’t believe I did that.

How Anxiety Affected My Relationships

When my husband and I first started dating, my anxiety shaped so many of my actions. I would lie in bed at night, running through every possible way things could go wrong. During the day, I stressed myself out, obsessing over every little detail, trying to make everything perfect. I didn’t want to let him down. If he texted or called, I’d drop everything to respond immediately, afraid that any delay might mean something was wrong.

I was constantly obsessing over every detail of my personal and work life, replaying conversations, and wishing I had said something different. It was exhausting. My mind refused to let things go—I had to dissect every situation, not really knowing why, just doing it because I couldn’t shake the worry. Did I say something dumb? Did I do something wrong?

Seeking Help: Therapy and Medication

I was hesitant to seek help. In college, I had tried antidepressants and anti-anxiety medication, but the experience was awful. I couldn’t sleep, and instead of feeling better, I felt worse. So for years, I avoided medication. Eventually, though, I decided to give therapy a try.

It was nice to have someone to talk to—someone who would listen without judgment and offer advice. But it wasn’t what I expected. I thought therapy would uncover some deep-rooted cause of my anxiety, some “aha” moment that would fix everything. After a few months, I realized that while talking helped, it wasn’t enough. I needed something more.

That’s when I asked about medication again. My therapist referred me to a provider who could actually prescribe something.

At my first visit with a nurse practitioner, I went through a quick screening. “What year is it? Who is the president? Can you name the last four presidents?” A few other questions, all seemingly meant to gauge my mental clarity. I must have passed because I left with a prescription for 5mg of Lexapro (Escitalopram).

I was told it would take about four weeks to notice any effects. But in just the first few days, I felt something shift. My mind started to quiet. It wasn’t a dramatic change, but it was noticeable. The constant background noise of my thoughts began to slow down.

With my provider’s guidance, I adjusted my dosage and eventually settled at 20mg, taken at night to help with drowsiness during the day. That’s when I really felt the difference. My mood lifted. The world around me seemed…brighter. Music sounded richer. Colors looked more vibrant. It was like I had been seeing life through a foggy lens for years, and suddenly, everything was clear.

I tried to explain this feeling to my friends and family. “Is this how y’all feel all the time?” I asked. Their answer was a casual yes. And that’s when it hit me—no matter how much yoga, meditation, or exercise I did (and those things are great), if you have a chemical imbalance, no amount of lifestyle changes alone can fix it.

Recognizing My Anxiety-Driven Behaviors

There were so many times when someone would ask, “What’s wrong?” and I’d respond with, “Nothing,” or “I’m just feeling a bit anxious.” But in reality, I was drowning in anxiety. I tried everything—mile-long runs, frequent workouts, yoga, meditation—but nothing seemed to help. Looking back, I can now see patterns in my daily life that were likely tied to my anxiety.

One example came up during a recent conversation with my husband about my favorite shows. I constantly rewatch the same ones. I have about five that I cycle through and two that are my absolute favorites. I rewatch episodes daily and never really get bored of them.

Whenever he puts on something new to watch, I’ll half-watch while scrolling on my phone, barely paying attention. Eventually, I either realize I’m not interested or I am, and I’ll ease into it. It’s like I have to plan everything out just to feel prepared. I realized this was likely because of my anxiety.

I started digging and found research showing that people with high anxiety often do this because it’s comforting. Rewatching familiar TV shows helps in several ways: it reduces mental effort because the brain already knows what to expect, creates a sense of control and predictability that eases anxiety, and brings comfort through repetition. Since the brain processes familiar material more easily, it has a calming effect that can help with stress.

Final Thoughts

This made me wonder what other habits I’ve picked up after living with GAD for so long. Some behaviors become so ingrained that it takes time to even notice them, let alone understand where they come from. It’s interesting to realize how one part of my life can quietly shape another without me even noticing.

If you’re reading this and find yourself struggling with constant worry, know that support and options exist. Whether it’s therapy, medication, or a combination of both, relief is possible. Living with anxiety doesn’t have to be your normal. If sharing my experience helps even one person feel less alone, then putting this out there was worth it.

—Tots