The Dread That Never Happens

While anxiety can feel different for every person, that sense of dread is exactly how I feel when anxiety creeps up on me. I feel I have suffered from anxiety my whole life; however, until the last few years, I never fully understood why I felt this way, that there was even a name for it, or how much it was affecting myself and those around me.

When I was a child, I would often second-guess myself and panic over activities outside my normal schedule. I would work myself up over simple things such as walking to the bus stop alone or appearing on stage for a school musical. Even trying to socialize with other kids my age caused undo stress. In the 1980s, information on mental health was scarce, so I was often referred to as a "scaredy-cat" or "quirky."

When I attended the College of Mount St. Joseph, as it was known then, I served as a Sports Editor for the newspaper. This role was perfect for me as I love sports and talking to people about them. During my time there, I would conduct interviews with players and coaches but inevitably the feeling of dread would creep up, causing me to sweat profusely, I'd start to stammer and develop stomach aches. I never understood why I would become this nervous. Over the next few decades, this sense of dread intensified as I began experiencing mood swings and panic attacks.

About 12 years ago, I thought I was going through a mid-life crisis as my career had become stalled, monotonous, and I no longer found it satisfying. I missed using the creative skills I had learned at the College of Mount St. Joseph. I would arrive home from work drained, both mentally and physically. I chalked these feelings up as normal due to my career and being a husband and father. My wife noticed a change in me, and suggested, for my own sanity (and probably hers as well), that I start a hobby to get my creative juices flowing again. After talking to a good friend of mine, we decided to buy a few microphones and record a weekly podcast. While the podcast helped give me an outlet, creatively, socially and emotionally, I found myself obsessed with checking the download/listener numbers, often multiple times a day. I felt pressure to keep the podcast interesting to continue growing its audience.

The habit of checking the number of downloads eased as our podcast became popular(ish). The number of hosts increased from two to five, we recorded our 400^th episode, and I found that the feeling of dread was not creeping up on me as often. I became a moderator at the Cincinnati Comic Expo, allowing myself the opportunity to interview celebrities in front of several hundred people. My fear of public speaking from childhood seemed to ease. The podcast cured me; I was fine. Everything was fine. Then 2020 happened and as the world was turned upside down, I was not fine.

COVID made being a hermit socially acceptable. In the beginning I was in my element, as I have always loved staying home. However, as the pandemic grew and became more serious, so did my feelings of worry, nervousness and doom. I now found myself obsessing about events out of my control. This obsession began to consume my life. I began stockpiling food and medicine; my family and I did not leave the house, and when we did, it wasn't without a mask. We missed holidays, birthdays and other events. COVID was hard, but I do believe one powerful discussion came from it. Mental Health.

As life often does, soon after COVID I was thrown a curve ball as I had surgery to remove my gall bladder. Lying in the hospital bed after surgery, my blood pressure spiked dangerously high. The doctors began to worry I would have a stroke. My small, outpatient procedure turned into four long days of tests to determine why my blood pressure would not go down. I found myself having panic attacks every few hours and that sneaky feeling of dread slowly crept back in. After the last test was complete, the medical staff had a diagnosis: I was perfectly healthy. I was confused as something was happening to me, but I was given no explanation. This was the first time I realized that the sense of dread that had plagued my whole life was not just nerves but rather anxiety, and it was now affecting my physical health. I looked over at my wife and said, "I think I need to talk to someone."

After my follow up with my doctor and being honest about my issues, I was diagnosed with anxiety. After all these years, I finally had a name for this dread I felt. My doctor prescribed two different medicines, advised me to fill my life with good outlets, and suggested I see a therapist. I was fully onboard with this plan. I started going to an exercise bootcamp, saw a therapist, talked more openly about my anxiety, and I continued to record my podcast. Keeping myself busy allows my brain to remain calm and not spiral out of control. In understanding my anxiety, I could manage it better.

I learned that with having a mental illness, being cured is not an option. I will probably live with anxiety for the rest of my life. However, I feel confident that in using the tools I have learned, and continue to learn, anxiety will not define who I am, but rather, make me who I am.

Over the years, mental illness has become more mainstream and there are many helpful resources available. Do not be afraid to reach out and ask for help; you will be surprised by how many people are looking for the same answers.

Jason worked on Dateline for four years in several roles, including Sports Editor. He is Senior Claims Manager at Great American Insurance that oversees a team of insurance representatives that handle claims and lawsuits involving damage to commercial properties and equipment. He has been in insurance for 22 years, 16 years at Great American.