I’m sat here marveling at my own stupidity, my heart is beating ten to the dozen just at the thought of writing this blog post. I recently thought I’d taken a big leap forwards in terms of my battle with anxiety, I’ve managed to open up to a couple of my friends (sort of) and I’ve been trying my hardest to not close myself off from everybody. Alas, a measly little blog post that nobody will read has me with my heart in my throat.
Sometimes, when I’m feeling particularly well, I take some time out to evaluate anxiety and consider what it does to me. It’s not something that I can do when I’m fully engorged in the moment but I do tend to find it refreshing to look back at those times and consider how anxiety impacts my behaviour.
- I get anxious at the thought of being anxious – quite a silly notion when you think about it, but I do find myself getting into a viscous cycle of making myself anxious just thinking about what I’ll do or not do when I am anxious.
- I back out of any social situation – I’m the ultimate flake when it comes to going out and seeing my friends. I like to think of myself as a homebody, but I do actually enjoy seeing people when I do go out. It’s just the thought of actually going out that fills me with dread. There’s only so many times you can say no to plans before you no longer get the invite, it’s good in the way that I no longer have to think of a shabby excuse as to why I’m busy (apparently I can’t get the words ‘I don’t think I can because of my anxiety’ out of my pie hole) but it terrifies me that people think I’m a shit person in general.
- I get scared easily – this one isn’t too serious and I do actually see the funny side of it; but I get scared and scream at things really easily. I only realised this was due to anxiety when my doctor explained that my anxiety also causes me to be on edge, my fight or flight mode constantly engaged. My fiance tried to announce when he was coming into the room and moved around loudly so I wouldn’t scream bloody murder when he ‘creeped’ up on me but not even that worked.
- I always wait for something horrible to happen – even when the day could not be going any better I always have a niggling thought in the back of my mind that something will go wrong. Just driving home from work after a pretty good day? Don’t worry, you’ll probably pass out at the wheel, crash and die. That fear is actually a pretty regularly occurring one for me, whenever I’m a passenger I have to go over how I would stop the car in the safest way possible if the person driving suddenly became unconscious.
- I pick and itch my skin compulsively – and boy do I get angry when somebody points this out to me and gets me to stop. It’s compulsive in the way that I don’t know I’m doing it and it’s repulsive in the way that I keep going until I eventually bleed. But bleeding means scabbing, which means something to pick at, with the cycle eventually leading to scarring.
I don’t really know where I was going with this blog post or how I expected to end it but, bye.