My Story: How Anxiety Impacted My Asthma

I don’t really consider myself an asthma advocate. I’m a blogger at heart. I like to write; I don’t like to talk. A few years ago, I went to Washington D.C. to “advocate” on Capitol Hill. I had to speak with Congressmen to try to convince them to vote for asthma-related bills. And honestly, I hated every moment of it. It was incredibly uncomfortable for me to talk to people in that setting.

Advocating in that way just isn’t for me. Others in the asthma community do it and do it well, but not me. My advocacy comes through my writing. This is my gift. Writing is what I do best, and I will continue to write about asthma until everyone is aware of the disease—or until asthma is no longer a problem.

And I’ll keep doing this, even if I end up repeating myself. Thankfully, even after doing this since 2007, I’ve never truly repeated myself. Somehow, I keep coming up with new ideas for asthma-related topics on a weekly, sometimes daily, basis. It’s because this is my passion. Writing about asthma is what I love. I don’t do videos, and I’ll never return to Washington D.C. as an advocate. That’s simply not my gift.

I want to share something personal with you today, something I’ve never shared before. As a child, I would often suffer from asthma attacks for hours, sometimes days, before I gathered the courage to tell my parents. Can you imagine that? There were times when I could only take in half a breath in my bedroom in the middle of the night. I’d even poke my head out the window, hoping the fresh air would help (and, to be honest, it did help a little).

There were moments when I cried in frustration. But still, I didn’t tell my parents. I wrote about this on my blog several years ago, and one fellow asthma blogger commented: “Why wouldn’t you tell your parents if you were feeling so bad?”

At the time, I didn’t have an answer. I simply replied, “I don’t know.” I still don’t fully understand why I was so afraid to ask for help. My parents were loving and caring, yet I still held back. This wasn’t a one-time thing—it happened many times. I suffered in silence, unsure how to reach out for help.

You might ask, “How did your parents not notice?” Well, it was because of me. I was an expert at pretending. I’d walk by my parents, shoulders down, holding my breath so they couldn’t see how badly I was struggling.

Eventually, I found the courage to wake them up. Every time, they were empathetic, rushing me to the hospital. So, why did I wait so long to tell them? That’s a question I couldn’t answer—until recently.

In 1985, I spent six months at an asthma hospital in Denver, where I was diagnosed with social anxiety disorder. It wasn’t caused by my asthma. It was a completely separate issue. The doctors explained that my anxiety was exacerbating my asthma. They worked with me to help manage my anxiety so I could better manage my asthma and seek help immediately when I needed it.

The thing is, I could speak just fine in comfortable settings. But when I was in an uncomfortable situation—like feeling miserable and needing to wake my parents—I’d freeze. I couldn’t communicate when I felt stressed. This was true at school too. Surrounded by people, I would rarely, if ever, raise my hand to speak with teachers, and my grades suffered as a result.

Looking back, I can see how anxiety and asthma were intertwined. Learning to address my anxiety has been key to managing both. And by sharing my story, I hope others can find the courage to speak up when they need help.

Living with Asthma and Anxiety: A Journey of Growth

I started blogging about my asthma back in 2007. It didn’t take long before I met other people with asthma who were also blogging. We formed a tight-knit group, all sharing our struggles and triumphs. One day, I wrote about a severe asthma attack I had when I was 10, "A Tough Evening In A Smoke Filled Room." I didn’t tell my parents right away, even though I was scared and struggling to breathe. Eventually, I woke them up, and my dad rushed me to the emergency room.

One of my fellow bloggers asked, “Why didn’t you tell your parents sooner?” At the time, I wasn’t sure why. It seems like the obvious thing to do when you’re sick, right? But for me, I didn’t. I replied to my friend, “I don’t know. Sadly, it happened a lot when I was a kid.”

Looking back, it’s a little sad. It’s hard to admit that I had to deal with asthma alone sometimes. Even harder to admit that I was afraid to wake my parents. But looking back, I can also see how much I’ve grown and how much we can learn from experiences like these.

In 1985, I was admitted to an asthma hospital in Denver, Colorado. They treated me for asthma but also recognized something else: anxiety. They told me that my anxiety was making it harder for me to manage my asthma. And that’s when everything started to make sense.

I talked to counselors, psychologists, and even a psychiatrist. The psychologist diagnosed me, and the psychiatrist prescribed me some medication to help with my anxiety. At just 15, I was open to all of it. I wanted to get better, and I wanted to learn how to live my life without fear.

Having both asthma and anxiety wasn’t easy, but over time, I’ve learned how to manage both. Yes, it takes work, but I’ve proven that it’s possible to live a full, healthy life with both conditions. Here’s the thing: managing asthma and managing anxiety go hand in hand. When you focus on controlling one, you’re also helping the other. But it’s not always simple—admitting you need help with anxiety can be a big challenge, especially when it feels irrational.

I was fortunate to be diagnosed and treated early. Not everyone is so lucky. Many people with anxiety never get an official diagnosis, and many don’t seek help. But treatment is possible, whether through relaxation techniques, therapy, or medication. It’s not always easy, but it’s worth it.

What Is Anxiety?

I’m not a doctor, so I’ll share what anxiety feels like from my own experience. To me, anxiety is about fear, worry, and nervousness. It’s a constant sense of dread, like a weight on your chest. You feel uneasy, even in situations that shouldn’t cause fear.

Two Types of Asthma Anxiety

There are two kinds of anxiety that I’ve personally experienced, and I think they’re both important to recognize.

1. Anxiety Caused by Asthma: This one’s pretty straightforward. When you can’t breathe, you get scared. Everyone with asthma has probably felt this. It’s the panic that sets in when an asthma attack hits, and it’s hard to control the fear of it getting worse. But,  this anxiety can be helpful. It reminds you to get the help you need, whether it’s reaching for your inhaler or calling for help.

2. Anxiety That’s Always There (Not Caused by Asthma): This kind of anxiety is more subtle and harder to recognize. It’s the anxiety you feel all the time, whether or not you’re experiencing an asthma attack. It can be fear of what others think or worrying that you’re bothering someone (like I was afraid of bothering my parents). It’s irrational, and yet, it’s there. This kind of anxiety can be hard to pinpoint, and many people go through life without realizing they have it. But it’s real. And it can be managed.

Finding Strength in Anxiety

The good news is, anxiety doesn’t have to control your life. It’s natural to feel anxious when you’re having trouble breathing, but it doesn’t have to prevent you from seeking help. If you’re a child, you wake up your parents. If you’re an adult, you call your doctor or head to the emergency room. Anxiety can drive you to take action, to do what you need to do to get better.

But anxiety can also be harmful when it stops you from asking for help. When asthma and anxiety combine, it can create a barrier to getting the care you need. That’s why it’s so important to address both asthma and anxiety. Once you acknowledge both, you can start to take control of your health and your life.

Living with asthma and anxiety may be a challenge, but it’s not a life sentence. You can learn to manage both. I’m living proof of that. Through therapy, medication, and learning to manage my asthma, I’ve been able to live a fulfilling life. It takes work, but it’s worth it.

So, if you’re struggling with asthma and anxiety, know that you’re not alone. There’s hope. With the right support, the right tools, and a willingness to ask for help, you can manage both and live your life to the fullest. It’s not always easy, but it’s always possible.

Asthma Induced Anxiety Versus Anxiety Induced Asthma

An important topic I wanted to discuss is the different ways anxiety and asthma can co-exists. Allow me to break it down this way. 

1. Asthma Induced Anxiety. You typically do not experience anxiety. However, when you get short of breath this causes you to experience anxiety. You get stressed, worry, and maybe even panic due to the feeling you can't catch your breath. 
2. Anxiety Induced Asthma. You have anxiety that you experience on a daily basis. And this causes you to worry or fear things, perhaps irrationally. For example, you forget to take your medications therefore your asthma gets worse. Or, you experience your early warning symptoms of asthma and worry about what others will think, so you fail to seek help when you need to. 

How Has Anxiety Impacted My Life

As I noted in this post here, I was diagnosed with anxiety at a young age. This was back in the 1980s when I spent six months at an asthma hospital. Back then, my counselors and psychologists did not specify what type of anxiety I had. And this is because such specificity about anxiety did not exist. However, they were able to determine that my anxiety probably was effecting my asthma. 

How did anxiety impact my asthma? Before being admitted to the asthma hospital, I often experienced asthma symptoms. However, instead of seeking help, I would try to manage it independently. My anxiety played a significant role in this decision—I worried about burdening my parents and feared potential judgment from doctors regarding my frequent use of the rescue inhaler. Due to these concerns and others, I hesitated to involve adults in my care. Unfortunately, this anxiety-driven reluctance to seek assistance led to inadequate self-care, allowing my asthma to worsen.

Back then and for many years thereafter, I vehemently denied having anxiety. I was even irritated that the specialists caring for me would suggest it while I adamantly declared, 'I don't have anxiety, I have asthma.' Despite my resistance, they skillfully addressed my anxiety, emphasizing the importance of seeking help promptly when experiencing symptoms rather than attempting to handle it alone.

Repeatedly, they emphasized the crucial message that seeking help promptly and addressing asthma episodes early on was the most effective strategy for gaining better control. Additionally, they underscored the significance of consistent use of my asthma controller medicines—emphasizing the importance of taking them daily and avoiding forgetting or skipping doses.

Furthermore, they provided thorough education on all of my medications, plus education about proper inhaler and nebulizer usage. And these efforts, ensured that my technique with these devices was stellar to guarantee I was receiving the correct dose of my respiratory medications. To help me control the anxiety itself they prescribed for me a medication called Xanax. 

All these measures did seem to help me obtain better asthma control despite my anxiety and my asthma. And, in return, these allowed me to enjoy a much better quality of life once I was discharged from the asthma hospital in July of 1985. I somehow managed to keep my asthma well controlled for the next several years. And I managed to keep myself out of the emergency room for the next six years. And this was a HUGE improvement from the years prior to my stay at the asthma hospital. 

Get Your Anxiety Treated! You Deserve It!

If you're grappling with anxiety, it's crucial to seek treatment. Do you find yourself worrying excessively, losing sleep over racing thoughts, altering plans due to nerves, or using substances to cope in social situations? If you identify with one or more of these experiences, you may be dealing with anxiety. The good news is that you don't have to face it alone any longer.

I understand the challenges of living with anxiety firsthand. There were three reasons I didn't seek treatment for many years. First, anxiety is often misunderstood by medical professionals, leading to overlooked diagnoses. Second, there's a pervasive tendency to deny the existence of anxiety, even when it's evident. I personally denied having anxiety for decades, despite being told by social workers, psychologists, and a psychiatrist at the asthma hospital back in the 1980s that I had it. Their intention was to help me accept it and find treatment, but I resisted until recently. And a third reason is the social stigma about brain disorders. For example, when I became convinced I had anxiety, I talked to my brother about it. And I talked to him about the prospect of taking medicine for it. And he said, "You don't want to take psyche drugs, they mess with your head." Little did he know that not taking psyche meds is what messes what your head, not taking them. The psyche meds prevent this, or at least make it better, allowing you to have a better quality of life. 

The hurdle then becomes how to seek anxiety treatment when you're grappling with anxiety itself. I, for instance, have a form of anxiety known as social anxiety disorder. Being around people triggers intense nervousness, making me feel profoundly uncomfortable, especially in familiar company. The pressure to engage in conversations heightens this discomfort, leading me to either say things I feel are foolish or withdraw into silence. My son appears to experience similar challenges and has been undergoing counseling. During one session, his counselor mentioned "Selective Mutism," a term that seemed to describe not only my son but also myself.

Learning about Selective Mutism and its treatment options was eye-opening. My son was prescribed Prozac, one of the few medications studied in children, and over time, we've seen substantial improvements in his anxiety levels. He's become more relaxed, although there's still a long road ahead. This prospect of progress is what sent shivers down my spine, as it means he'll receive the help I didn't get.

Through my research into this condition, I've gained extensive knowledge about anxiety and its treatment. While I've developed my own strategies for managing it as an adult—sometimes involving quietude and, at other times, avoidance—I still grapple with anxiety. Why do I persist? How different would my life be without the limitations imposed by anxiety? With these questions in mind, I mustered the courage to talk to my doctor.

The irony of discussing anxiety with a doctor when you have anxiety is not lost on me. Many times, I've wanted to broach the subject but couldn't find the courage. That, in itself, is a sign of anxiety. Perhaps my doctor recognized it because without hesitation, he prescribed a medication called Celexa. Will it work? Only time will tell.

And here's another thought. the cartoon I use on this post is not truly accurate. A person like me, who has has developed coping strategies, will not look like this character -- he or she would look calm and cool. If you saw me and I was experiencing anxiety, I would look totally fine. And that's part of the problem. And it reminds me of a meme: "It's not anxiety that I am faking, it's looking fine that I'm faking."