Why Do I Have Anxiety?

​Someone recently asked me, "why do you have anxiety"?  Reasonable question to ask and one no one has ever asked. For most of life I have struggled with anxiety yet no one has really asked me why. I really had to stop and dig deep into myself to even come up with an answer. I said, "why do you breathe?". Lame as hell but I could not think of anything else. Not even a witty comeback which I usually spew on command. I know what anxiety is, but why DO I have it? My childhood was not the Brady Bunch type nor was it Nightmare On Elm Street, it was more an odd mix of comedy, drama and mishaps! Except for my sister.My sister who was over ten years older then me, was more an archenemy in my life vs. an inspirational force behind me! She treated me like I was a hostile intruder in our family. It could be that she was the youngest for so long then my parents decided to not use protective gear in their late forties, me being the result.  Her hate was mostly lashed out in words of loathing towards me and insults. She loved to make me doubt my entire existence. Nothing I did was good enough and I was always at fault no matter what. As a young child, she would taunt me with stories of me being adopted. Not that being adopted is horrifying, but when you are five years old, it can really make you cry. She would tell me my "current" parents were being paid to keep me  as no one else wanted me. As I got older, she would tell me how I would never amount to anything. How I better stay pretty as I was not going anywhere in life and would have to use my looks to get by. She would tell me that I could not handle any situation in life and would always need someone to take care of me. She constantly said that I was weak, pathetic and a horrible person. Words can scar deep into a young girls mind and soul. Oddly, throughout my life I was always trying to please her. I wanted her to love me and be proud of me so desperately. I should have been more concerned with my parents feelings but somehow, I needed her approval. I never got it. Never honestly felt any real love from her. She would have phases, where she would be somewhat sisterly to me but just as I began to trust my excitement, she would tear me down again. I could write a book solely on the psychological pain and emotional abuse that I endured from her. Even as an adult, I allowed her to belittle me back to that insecure child standing on hardwood stairs, hoping my big sister would love me. I stopped all of this the day my beautiful mother died. The sibling called to say that I would be getting our mothers urn as she did not want it in her home. I said thank you and hung up. I have not spoken to her since nor has she tried to contact me. I no longer get anxious looking for her phone number to appear on my call display. I no longer have her controlling my mind.  
Another factor that has made me anxiety's bitch, is the amount of emotional trauma, that I have encounter throughout my life. I have watched too many of my love ones die, some slower than others. The amount of stress this puts on someone is hardly matched.  
I am what is considered an anxious empathetic, which some just call being kind except if you struggle with social anxiety. I know that I am hypersensitive to other people's emotions and fears. Socially anxious individuals a lot of the time demonstrate distinctive social-cognitive abilities mashed with elevated cognitive empathy tendencies . When you are hypersensitive to others moods, you can experience burnout exhaustion and become ill. My mother always said I was too empathetic as a child as I would feel sick when someone else was ill. I am also one of those people who cry when something good happens to someone too as I feel their excitement and happiness.
I have also had anxiety due to a side effect to medication that I was taking.Overall, anxiety has been part of me. I have a hard time remembering life without panic attacks and anxiety.  Why do I have anxiety? Too many check marks on any psychologists list would be my guess! 

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