Blog 1: Severe Anxiety

I suffer from severe anxiety. There isn’t a time when I’m not constantly worrying – I even have anxiety dreams. In fact; right now I’m worrying about what you, the reader, are thinking of me as you read this. Are you reading this to get a better understanding of the condition? Did you stumble upon this blog and the subject matter caught your attention? Do you know me in person and want a better understanding of who I am and this part of my life or do you have some ulterior motive? I’m afraid that if it is the latter then you will be disappointed. I’m very open about my struggles with anxiety and depression (and the other illnesses within them) and there aren’t any secrets when it comes to it. I don’t find it embarrassing and I’m not ashamed of it anymore. So what if I have mental health issues? I’m not afraid of them and you shouldn’t be afraid of me for having them. Hopefully this blog will give you a better insight on what I go through and how it affects me –why it makes me the way that I am. Some may call this blog “depressing” and “negative”. I call it life; my life. This is all I know.

I have had anxiety for as long as I can remember. It has stopped me from trying new things for fear of being judged and made fun of. Being bullied throughout my childhood and teenage years certainly didn’t help. I grew up extremely self-conscious, aware that all eyes were on me because at school if I tried to participate in say, P.E, peers would stare, call me names and find ways to let me know that, as a bigger person, I didn’t look good when I ran (or when I did anything, according to them). I couldn’t walk from my seat to the front of the class without snide comments or looks being exchanged. I grew up with people taking the mick out of me when we did things like “Social Dancing” because no one wanted to dance with the fat girl, and a fat girl dancing was hilarious to them. There was one guy, however, who didn’t see it that way and that will always stick with me. We had gone to primary school together and he had no qualms about asking me if I wanted to be his dance partner. That is probably one of the only good things that happened to me throughout my education. I could’ve let my paranoia convince me that he was doing it for a laugh but I knew in my heart that he was sincere because back when I was well-minded he was always very nice to me. I think he was aware that despite others thinking that I wasn’t worth knowing because I was different, that I was at least worth showing some human decency towards because, at the end of the day, no matter what you look like; we are all human -unless you identify as a fish or something but you catch my drift. We all have a living, beating heart and a soul (yes; even gingers) and we all deserve to be treated with respect and decency.  

I try to treat everyone how I would want to be treated and if they turn out not to be worth giving my respect or time to (because they are horrible people) then I simply do not bother with them. If a friend or acquaintance becomes toxic then I stop associating with them. These kinds of people, I have learned, are not worth what limited good mental health I do have and I will not jeopardise my recovery for them or their toxic ways.

Even though I have been out of school for a while now, I still feel down a lot and that impacts my interactions with people I know. When I feel really bad I go offline for days, sometimes even weeks at a time, and I turn my phone off. On good days I still find it hard to talk on the phone and to reach out to people as, due to my anxiety, I feel like I am bothering them. You would think that as I am aware that the paranoia traits of my anxiety warps my mind that I would be able to brush it aside and forget about it but I can’t and that leads me onto the subject of my next blog post; communication.

If you have any questions about this post or would like me to talk about a specific part of dealing with anxiety and depression then please feel free to ask. Any negativity will be deleted.

Anxiously,

Me.