Hi, Anxiety audiobook

Hi, Anxiety is a masterfully written memoir that takes readers deep inside the experiences Kinsman has had living with the title ailment. She does an excellent job at vividly showing both the long-term effects anxiety has had on her life, in ways big and small, as well as how she's coped with it. Because so much of mental illness is invisible, this is a vital book in helping those who have no idea what anxiety is like to understand its real, powerful consequences, and Kinsman never flinches from highlighting its devastating effects, from letting car towing bills mount because she's afraid to go pick it up to assorted other fears that leave her often unable to do basic tasks many people take for granted. She intersperses her story with things she's afraid of, devoting enough detail that it's impossible not to feel sympathy for how the anxiety has shaped all of her decisions. There were many places where I found myself nodding along in recognition, while others made me wonder if anyone I am close to has felt something similar and simply hadn't been able to tell anyone, as Kinsman was at one point in her life. Yet this is not a depressing, but rather a hopeful memoir, even if there is no miracle cure or a-ha moment at the end where the nerves magically disappear. Instead, Kinsman simply opens the door into her world, hoarding, dominatrix job, parental mental illness, dating drama and all, and lets readers who share any similar traits that they are not alone. The writing itself is rich with detail, so much so that it was at times challenging to reconcile the person described on the page with the person spinning such words, but that is yet another lesson of this book: that people are not always what they appear, and may be leading inner lives that look nothing like what others perceive them from the outside. I encourage anyone who cares about mental health, has dealt with their own or a loved one's mental health issues, or simply enjoys memoirs to read this.

Kat Kinsman is my twin, so I naturally feel sorry for her. Funny, wry, sometimes brutal memoir about life riddled with anxiety. I related far too much than I thought I would!!

A very intense and brave account of what it feels like to have a crippling and debilitating case of anxiety. I salute the author for having the courage to relate her experience and the listening to her own voice made it all the more personal and at times painful to witness the suffering of another human being, albeit indirectly. What I didn't particularly enjoy about this book is the dense and chaotic storytelling which makes it difficult to follow (I, for one, prefer a more straightforward approach in terms of style and writing) and the overly acerbic tone at times. Overall, however, it makes a good read for those who want to know more about severe cases of anxiety from a first-person perspective or, if you are already aware of how it feels, to at least know that you are not alone out there.

Who let someone write my biography without my permission????JK but really tho as someone with intense anxiety issues I found so much of this book relatable. Some of Kat's deepest fear chapters gave me secondhand anxiety :&!! She comes off as very warm and genuine; it feels like reading about a friend. A+ book would recommend to people with anxiety and people in general.

This book touches on a lot of issues that I am quite familiar with. While my personal levels of anxiety differ from Kat's from situation (sometimes more, sometimes less), it's important to know that people have found ways to survive in this crazy, hectic, crowded world while dealing with the kind of thing I've been putting up with every day for as long as I can remember. The stories are both funny and sad, well presented, and heart-felt. This was an excellent read.

I really enjoyed Kat's book, so much so that I found myself folding down the corners of pages to share with my partner or with friends. The book is comprised of shorter chapters describing 10 of her fears (many of which I could relate to!) and other chapters that were based on her anxiety journey, both what she experienced as a child as well as how she coped with it as an adult. I find the format of many vignettes works well for these types of books. I also appreciated how strongly Kat's voice came through in what she wrote -- she really put herself out there, getting vulnerable about love, work, and family in a way that helped me further process my own anxiety. A strong recommendation for anyone who struggles with their mental health or someone who wants to support a friend or family member who struggles with mental health.

4.5/5.0 “Did your throat close up just a little bit reading this? Spine prickle and tighten, stomach twitch, or did you feel the sweat pooling at the small of your back because it sounded painfully familiar? You’re not alone. There are millions of us struggling to fight anxiety in all its forms, every waking (and sometimes sleeping) hour of every day, and we’re suffering silently because we don’t want to be judged or add to anyone else’s burden” Ahhh... yes. Just what I feel writing this review. Thank you anxiety for waking me up at 3 am, and refused to let me fall back to sleep. “300.02 is the number of my beast. It’s The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5) classification code for generalized anxiety disorder (GAD), and it’s clawed its way into the top slot as the most frequently diagnosed mental illness in the United States of America (USA).” Oh wow okay I am actually sick. “Generalized anxiety disorder entails ongoing, severe tension that interferes with daily functioning.”“It is a wretched thing to be a slave to your body’s chemistry. It lies to you, stoking fear and guilt and horror where none is called for, turning shadows to predators and neutral interactions into mental films played on endless loop so you can dissect the moment that you screwed everything up forever” Yes it does. “Fear is good. Fear is logical. But the kind of worry we’re talking about is magnified to such a degree that it becomes an act of violence upon one’s own soul.”“A panic attack may include: pounding heart or chest pain, sweating, trembling, shaking, shortness of breath, sensation of choking, nausea or abdominal pain, dizziness or light-headedness, feeling unreal or disconnected, fear of losing control, “going crazy” (not in the fun Prince way) or dying, numbness, chills, or hot flashes.” I experience this and I hate it every time.Sounds exhausting, right? You damn right it was. I also found the words that I can never express in this book, but I'm just gonna let the quotes do the talking for me, because I can't quite articulate it as well as she did. “These were for girls who didn’t pick their skin bloody, double over sour-stomached from fear of going to the mall with their friends, whose mothers didn’t scream in psychic pain then crash to sleep, who’d never stood at the edge of their world and considered doing it a favor by stepping over. They get love and you deserve scraps.” Didn't relate to the mother part but other things, yes. “You can’t argue with a love that long-lasting—it just is, but at the time I saw it as a failing in me. She had to be prettier, smarter, fundamentally better than me, and I clawed myself to pieces trying to figure out what I was lacking.” Sounds like me every time I like a guy. “It’s a form of communication I dread on a good day, but with my level of dependence on his contact increasing by the hour, it felt too risky, too intimate. E-mail, I could handle, take my time and craft the perfect response. But attaching an actual living person to the Sam I’d built in my head was a little too much.” Hah! If this isn't me... “He saw me for the flinching, tender soul I was behind my high, hard boots and bloodred lipstick and he wanted to let me know that he liked me despite it—and because of it. Hell, he just liked ME and he didn’t mind that I knew it. That sure felt like a first.” “I felt gleeful and graceful and settled in my skin for the first time I could remember, tuned into the unfamiliar and wholly welcome bliss of someone whose soul buzzed on the same frequency as mine. He felt it, too—I knew it because he told me. He TOLD me, said the words out loud so I could hear them loud and clear, etch them onto my bones, and run my fingers over them. God, I felt loved and I gave as good as I got.”"You see why I didn’t let you come over before? If you don’t want to live with me, say the word. Go ahead and do it now and I’ll take everything back from the apartment. Just tell me now, so we can get it over with.”He stepped forward and drew my tear-sogged, hysterical face to his shoulder, wrapping his arms around me to still me. “I love you. Thank you for trusting me. What can I carry home to our place?” Good for you, Kat. You deserve a good man like him. “Even if someone is easy to love, that doesn’t necessarily take the gravity and terror out of the situation” “And we both braced for impact, all the time. I could see it in the little pauses before our carefully selected words, the flinch before each revelation of a flaw, the almost overeager need to please and serve—as if our presence wasn’t present enough. Is that okay with you? Do you need anything? Do you mind if I . . . ? What can I get for you?"Is that enough? Am I enough? I’m terrified that you’ll stop loving me. Please don’t.”“Douglas he could stop loving me now if he needed to. You’ve seen what’s in store. Get out while you can.”“I would be fine with or without marriage and I would stay so very happily for as long as he’d have me. But the worry that he wouldn’t have me was starting to eat me alive.”“There was a box. And a ring. And the demon hissing in my ear, “He feels sorry for you because you made such a fool of yourself, asking about marriage that night. He’s just letting you save face. Why would a good man saddle himself with the likes of you?”“You don’t . . . have to . . .” I stuttered.” And this is exactly me and why I never fully commit the idea of being in love because it's terrifying. Unless he could handle it. Don't even get me started on meditations or medications. “A friend was laughing at me tonight when I told him about my quandary. “You’re anxious about something that relieves anxiety? This is the Kat Kinsman I know and love!” he wrote to me, but that’s just it. If I’m not bracing for the next bad thing, how will I be ready when it comes?”“Shhh!” I whispered to the buzzing horde. “Just let me have this moment. This is supposed to be my time to be free of all of this. To achieve calm. Wait . . . why aren’t I achieving calm? Calm down, what’s wrong with you? ACHIEVE DIVINE CALM, FOR KRISHNA’S SAKE!”“And when she asked if I felt better, I lied, like I have to countless therapists, family members, lovers, friends, and so many well-meaning people who have offered me care and calm."... and benzos—like Valium, Klonopin, Xanax, and Ativan—they work well. So well. Too well for a lot of people (some of whom I love very much), who then struggle painfully to kick them. I fear becoming one of them.”“I felt that way about Effexor for the first few years before it backfired on me, and it gave rise to a few brand-new phobias for me: a fear that the meds won’t work, that the side effects will be untenable, or that they’ll work too well and I won’t be able to quit.” [Honestly at this point it just feels hopeless] “Leave them dazzled and breathless, then go home, strip down, and calculate if you’ve earned your keep that day. If not, then no rest for you; work more until you drop from exhaustion. In the morning, your bank is back down to zero and you have to fill it up again.Other people are allowed to rest, but not me, never me. Not the anxious one. They’re enough, just by the fact of their existence. They can take breaks, go on vacation, have a life, interest, hobbies, friends that don’t revolve around what they do for a living, but not when you’re Mumsie’s daughter, her father’s granddaughter. Let your limbs still for a second and you’ll sink, taking everything and everyone with you.""My terror has a hair trigger and it can be set off by a long pause from my boss, a side glance from a colleague, a particularly lengthy silence after an e-mail—something that means absolutely nothing real, but which I take to spell my doom”“I got my work done (though mostly in the middle of the night), met my deadlines, showed up in cute shoes with lipstick on to meet my friends, and no one had any idea what it cost me to get there.”“For a lot of us who deal with anxiety and panic, it can be an act of courage and will to approach the front door and walk through it. The thought of leaving your little cocoon—be it whatever level of fancy or humble, neat as a pin or as messy as a hoarder’s hovel—can be paralyzing, and that’s completely mortifying.”"Or just, like me, they may dread it for no rational reason, just a deep dread of crashing into the “maybe” that may dart from out of nowhere [A car, a truck... just anything massive]” “The stomach roiling, jaw clenching, cheek biting, finger picking, muscle tensing, and headaches take their toll, and my impulse had always been to do whatever I could to make it stop as swiftly as possible.” “Assume guilt, apologize, rectify, appease, even if it came at a cost. Mumsie’s crying? I’m so sorry, what did I do? Boyfriend seems distant? It can’t be because he’s stressed about work, it must be because I’ve been too needy—or possibly fundamentally unlovable. I’ll work on that. Someone else got the assignment I wanted? I suck, I suck, I suck. Must work through the night and not sleep. Ever.”“If the appointment is on a weekend, that means that I have to be at a certain place at a certain time, and all the hours before it are effectively useless. I can’t start writing, working, relaxing, reading a book, cooking a meal, or doing much but muck around on social media until it’s time to leave my house.”“Prepared? HA! That’s all I do is prepare. That’s what I’m built for. I spend all of my waking moments (and a good chunk of sleeping ones, too) putting hammer, nails, scratched skin, and blood into constructing the worst-case scenario and armoring for battle against it.”“Not just the big stuff—love and work and real estate—but everything from the route between the subway door and me to scoring a decent seat at the movies to finding the party host to say good night to how late to work I’d be if I hit the snooze alarm another time.”“Okay. Okay. Building is still standing. Good. That means I didn’t leave the stove on and burn the place down. Whew. Was worried. Victory number two—key works in the front door, so Ralph hasn’t evicted me for . . . I dunno what. Something. Something bad I did, or forgot to do. Next hurdle . . . oh God, oh God, what’s come in the mail. Maybe the eviction notice is there. Or a bill I forgot to pay. Or final warning on . . . something, the universe, yes, the universe telling me that I suck and everyone knows it. Or maybe that a relative has died. Maybe Mumsie died and everyone forgot my cell phone number and they don’t have my e-mail address and this is how they’re telling me. Oh, whew—just the gas bill. I’ll pay that. Okay, I hope Ralph won’t hear me lugging my suitcase up the stairs. He’ll want to ask me how I am and want to hug me and I just . . . I just can’t right now. Whew . . . made it. One more flight to go aaaand, thank goodness, my key still works. I still live here. OH MY GOD, the light isn’t turning on, did the electricity get “turned off?! Oh . . . just a burned-out bulb. I’ll ask Ralph to bring his ladder and fix it . . . but I have to clean up the hallway first so he doesn’t see how awful I’ve let the place get. I’ll do that tomorrow, I just need to sit down for a little while.” Hey peeps, this is what it looks like. Especially the last one.I hope this is more than adequate for a review. And if you're struggling with anxiety, may we one day be free.

If you’ve ever wonder what life is like with anxiety...read this.

I received an ARC of this book from the publisher in exchange for an honest review. This did not affect my opinion of the book or my review itselfKat Kinsman has been dealing with anxiety and depression in their myriad forms her whole life, from her mother's retreats to her silent bedroom, to her own fearful hidings under the bed covers. Now "out" about her anxiety, Kinsman is done hiding what she has always felt, and is sharing her story.As someone who has been diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder, having people be so public and honest about their own struggles with anxiety means a lot to me. Kinsman does not shy away from the frequently brutal truths about her life, and does a service to others through her truth.I liked the way the book is structured, larger episodes interspersed with chapters about more specific fears, such as driving. Kinsman has a nice, flowing style of writing that lends itself well to her storytelling.It's not that I didn't like this aspect, but this is not an easy book to read. Sometimes I could feel Kinsman's anxiety right there with her, and had to step away from the book for a bit.I have been reading and re reading a lot of books about anxiety lately, and this is another important addition to the canon.

As someone who also deals with anxiety, I found myself nodding as I read parts of this book. Others didn't resonate quite so much, as (thankfully) my anxiety has not hit the levels Kinsman deals with (in part, because I am lucky enough not to have encountered the bullying and sociopathic behavior from boyfriends that she dealt with--those would be enough to give anyone issues), but were still interesting to read. I applaud the author's courage--she doesn't prettify the effects of anxiety, but throws it all out there for her readers. That takes guts.