I don’t mind sharing. I’m going to share some details that I think provide context, they aren’t for sympathy or karma or anything. I’ve really whined about my problems on Reddit (I still deal with depression a bunch, but the anxiety is finally under control) so I’m not trying to do that here as I’m trying to be a better person and not an ass again, so this is just context below. TLDR at the end.

Context: I always knew I was “anxious” because I was always a nervous wreck and people noticed. But again, this was the 80s and it was assumed I just wasn’t “man” enough. Thankfully not by my parents, they are wonderful people, but didn’t really know better - they gave lots of love.

Anyway, time marches on. I learn a ton of barely effective coping mechanisms that get me through. I’m a good student, do college, move away, start a biz. Several fails in there that I had a hard time with. A ton of mystery illnesses that has no causes. I was usually labeled a hypochondriac, despite the physical symptoms.

Then a few years before COVID, I was in my late-ish 30s, I just started having panic attacks out of nowhere. I decided this could not possibly be how everyone felt all the time. I couldn’t afford insurance for a good decade, and lived on the west coast, and started working edibles into my diet as part of my profession at the time (cannabis chef). I had used cannabis for years, but these hit different, and I started sleeping without vivid nightmares EVERY night.

Fast forward to COVID, which was preceded by only months by several fires in my apartment that flooded my apartment, twice - which meant I moved twice. Then COVID, and rapid decline of my life. Business, home, 20 years of building my reputation - gone in 30 days. I had to move to KY (I’m in the US) 8 months after COVID hit (couldn’t pay rent anymore) where my husband had family we could stay with. He divorced me three months later. I had to call my parents, in PA, to come get me and my cats so I wouldn’t be homeless. I had my cats, my clothes, my computer, and my phone. Broke as hell and in debt. I ended up being unemployed for two years. I fell into a deep depression and became suicidal.

That was when I got help. Several therapists later, it seems my issues were chemical, not trauma based - which was frustrating because NO ONE believed me. But I’m currently on Effexor. It took several weeks to build up to therapeutic levels. But after a few days I wasn’t shaking with anxiety when I woke up. Over the weeks other symptoms started going away.

I still deal with bouts of depression. But my cannabis usually helps pull me out enough to do other things (like gardening) that can keep me out of the pit.

TLDR: A ton of awful shit happened to me in a short amount of time, and I got diagnosed because I became degreased and suicidal. Effexor seems to work brilliantly for me for anxiety, not so much for depression. I am male and do experience side effects such as loss of libido. But at the moment I’ll trade that for not worrying about every fucking thing all the fucking time whether I want to or not.