This is a post that has crossed my mind many times, but I’ve never been brave enough to write it. I don’t assume it will be in any particular in order, more me trying to write down thoughts as they come, so bear with me. Anyway, here goes:
I have had anxiety for coming on 7 years, although I did not know it was anxiety until about a year ago. That’s not including the, what I would call, depression I had from 13.
It’s not easy to begin a post like this, so I’ll start with this link – to which I can relate to all 7 points:
I won’t lie – anxiety sucks. It really sucks. A lot of tasks that are supposed to be easy are made 10x worse. I’m not the worst case, nowhere near, but that doesn’t mean it’s not real.
Some of my friends know of my anxiety, some may not know; others may be aware, but not to what extent.
There are days – relatively few and far between – that I find it too difficult to find the motivation to get out of bed and brush my teeth. I’m still able to do it every day, for which I am thankful, but it takes a lot of effort.
I’ve had panic attacks. I can remember my first – it was back in December 2006, while on the way to buy a Christmas tree, of all things.
One of the most recent things I have realised, about my anxiety, is that I hold on to things that make me happy. While being able to find things that make me happy is a good thing, not being able to ‘get over them’ quickly isn’t healthy. It only drags me down later on. It’s not that I need to forget them, but file them and move on to the next thing. For example, I recently worked on a residential and I had an amazing time. I was enjoying myself so much that I hardly noticed my anxiety – it was wonderful. However, after buzzing off it for 2 weeks I hit a wall and slid right down it. I’ve spent the last few days mostly blank faced, down and, subsequently, grumpy.
Which brings me on to change. I deal with change very badly, in fact I don’t deal with change at all. I moved house last December and I haven’t, yet, come to terms with it. Even something as small and insignificant as spoons can be a big deal to me (we’ve recently bought new cutlery and I’ve requested to keep 4 spoons, because they’re my favourites…).
I start college on Tuesday and I’m absolutely terrified. Enrolling on Friday took a lot out of me. Not only is it a big change, it also means a lot of new people. I should be looking forward to it, but instead I am absolutely dreading it – to the point of regretting applying in the first place.
Here’s the big hitter – I’m ashamed. (Wow, that hurt.) Although I’ve admitted to my anxiety enough to be seeing a counsellor; I am still in denial, to an extent. I don’t understand why I feel like I do, I hurt people around me without meaning to and I shy away from things I’d like to do.
Enough for now. Sorry for the blunt ending, but maybe I’ll write more on the subject, at another time.