Anxiety is an ongoing struggle. Every day, I have to wake up and fight with the stress of whether or not I want to get out of bed. Medication helps, but only so much. Each day that ends is a relief, and a victory. It’s over. I can rest now. And I won another day.
It seems like I’m taking this in a negative direction, but I’m just trying to get across the severity of my condition. I have trouble leaving the house. People freak me out. Being around those I don’t know is something that physically and mentally drains me. Every second is spent wondering if I did or said something wrong, if I’m meeting their expectations, if I’m being too childish, or talking down on them unintentionally.
In addition to this, I have the additional problem of my family. I suffer from PTSD after living with my mother during her drug relapse. This caused no small amount of trouble for me, and when she calls, the feeling in my stomach is like nausea and guilt, clawing away at the inside of my ribs. Like the physical sensation of nails on chalkboard, dragging at me, and pulling me down, and making me miserable.
This leads into depression, which feeds into reclusive habits, and in turn, more anxiety when dealing with others. It causes me to feel targeted in my own household, among roommates, friends, and equals. It has been a difficult journey, trying to discover my own self worth. I still don’t feel as if I deserve recognition, or help. The idea that anyone really cares about me is…a lot of pressure, if I’m being honest.
Friendship is hard. It’s a lot of responsibility. I’d like to think, if I can keep learning to differentiate between good and bad pressure, I can lower the anxiety in my life.
From: Anonymous B