My Journey with Anxiety Disorder: A Personal Story of Overcoming

Anxiety: A Lifelong Companion

I believe that many of you reading this may also experience some level of anxiety.

The first time I truly felt anxiety was when I turned 30, during a company dinner. Looking back, the event itself wasn’t the anxiety, but I now think it was definitely the trigger.

There was a pretty female colleague at my company. I never saw her romantically—just as a close coworker. One day, during a company gathering that she wasn’t attending, someone mentioned that one of my older, single colleagues had given her flowers for her birthday.

 

Honestly, I felt nothing. I had no romantic feelings for her.

But then, another senior colleague jokingly looked at me and said,

“Hey, how are you going to handle this? Don’t be too sad. Are you okay?”

And he kept teasing me.

Even though I had no feelings for her, I suddenly felt extremely self-conscious as the entire department turned to look at me. My heart started pounding, and within seconds—barely 5 or 10 seconds—I was drenched in sweat, as if I had just stepped out of the shower. Sweat poured down my face, too much for a tissue to handle, and my dress shirt became completely soaked.

I remember struggling for the rest of the evening, overwhelmed not just by the situation but by my body’s extreme reaction. The room filled with laughter, and soon after, a ridiculous rumor spread that I had secretly been in love with her and was dramatically heartbroken.

Later, I decided to study abroad and moved to California the following year.

I thought anxiety would become nothing more than a distant memory, but after ten years, it came back—this time, in an even crueler form.

When I got married, I was suddenly hit by the subprime mortgage crisis. I lost my job, my savings dried up, and an overwhelming sense of helplessness consumed me.

There’s an old saying: A man’s strength comes from his wallet. It couldn’t have been more true.

I had a wife, but I had lost my ability to provide. My self-esteem plummeted, and every place I went felt like walking on eggshells. Visiting my in-laws was like being dragged to an execution. For the first time, I truly understood why people say, “The farther your in-laws live, the better.”

Anxiety soon turned into social anxiety, and meeting people became a source of deep distress.

 

For a while, I couldn’t even stand in line at the grocery store without breaking into a cold sweat. I ended up using self-checkout just to avoid human interaction.

One time, I went to Nordstrom to buy a pair of shoes. The cashier line was long, and at the counter stood a sharp-looking blonde woman with gold-rimmed glasses. She seemed intelligent, meticulous, and a little intimidating.

Even while waiting in line, I could feel my anxiety creeping up.

By the time I reached the counter, my heart was racing uncontrollably. Cold sweat began to drip down my face, and I could feel her staring at me as if I were some sort of suspicious shoplifter.

At that moment, I decided to be honest.

“I have an anxiety issue,” I told her.

She gave me a small smile and said, “I understand.”

That simple response meant the world to me. For the first time, I realized that acknowledging anxiety might actually help.

Another time, I joined a large church and was invited to a dinner with the senior pastor and around 20–30 members.

As I sat at a table with elders and deacons, one elder suddenly brought up a controversial topic.

“These days, Shincheonji  CULT members are secretly joining churches and trying to infiltrate them,” he said.

(For the record, I am NOT a Shincheonji CULT member.)

But the moment he said that, my heart started pounding.

Oh no. If I start sweating here, it’ll look like I’m guilty of something!

I tried to distract myself by counting sheep. 100… 99… 98… But it didn’t work.

The more I tried to suppress my thoughts, the faster my heart raced. I could feel the anxiety building, and I knew that in three seconds, sweat would start pouring down my face.

I had to act fast.

“Excuse me, where’s the restroom?” I asked, standing up as naturally as I could.

I stayed there for about two minutes, hoping the conversation would move on. When I returned…

Nope. The elder was still passionately discussing Shincheonji CULT.

Ten seconds later, I had to get up again. And again. In total, I left the table three times.

Why was my anxiety so bad? No one was accusing me of anything. No one even knew my weaknesses. And yet, my body reacted as if I were under attack.

Anxiety—so exhausting.

Thankfully, over time, my career picked up, my financial situation improved, and I regained my self-confidence. I found healing in God, and in many ways, I recovered.

But even now, in certain unexpected situations, my anxiety still explodes.

After carrying this burden for so many years, I sometimes wonder if it will stay with me until the end of my life.

 

Maybe I just need to accept it—treat it like an old, grumpy friend, soothing it gently as I continue my journey.