I am so sick of people romanticizing the act of loving someone with an anxiety disorder. It’s not cute, or “strong of you” for staying. We are not your responsibility or burden. Who are you to weigh our worth by the words printed on a 10 page word document shelved in some white-walled, doctors office? Why is it wrong of me to want something unfabricated, undiagnosed for the first time in 18 years? I don't want to have a prescription for 90 pills of something I can’t pronounce in order to feel good. Loving someone with an anxiety disorder - what about just loving someone? I’m defined by my illness enough, so why does our relationship have to be?
Yes, loving someone with an anxiety disorder is the preparation for long nights, date nights ruined by sudden terror that maybe - what if I’m actually a monster, or maybe I’ll get sick tonight. But, more often than not, I’ll mention that my legs have gone numb and I won’t bring it up for the rest of the time you’re with me but you won’t know that I’ve left the room 4 times just to ask a friend if they’ve had this before, to ask Google if anyone has had this before, to accept the death that I truly believe is crawling down my spine, and to fix my makeup in the mirror because I don’t want to bother you with this.
I know this isn’t what you signed up for, but I’ve been struggling with this for my whole life, and you’re allowed to leave. You do not deserve a pat on the back for loving someone with a mental illness, you do not deserve a pat on the back for “dealing” with us. Falling in love with someone is falling in love with someone; and if you truly love me you will see that I am not just my anxiety. It gets old, but unless you can read my mind you have never stepped foot into the home of whatever is living in my head, and I don’t want you to.
I don’t want to see another article, another post, another cover photo with the words “loving someone with anxiety disorder” because why am I only being defined by my worst times? I don’t write articles about “loving someone with a broken arm,” or “loving someone with diabetes,” because you’ve never thought of those things as an inconvenience. If your partner's anxiety is an inconvenience to you, then leave: don’t make them feel ashamed for needing your support, don’t make them feel like you need recognition for time spent with them. We are not your charity work.
Anxiety is an illness, it’s not something I or anyone else can control. It’s repetitive, it’s irritating, it makes me miss out on things that everyone else gets to experience: yet, for some reason, you believe you have the right to take credit for it? To complain that it’s hard to love someone with it, to talk big about the fact that you do, or you have, or you at least tried to. Loving someone with anxiety disorder is a lot about making them feel like they aren’t alone, hard to love, or a burden on your life as a whole; but isn't that how it is in any relationship?
I have a partner who is very mindful of my mental illness, and understands when I need help, or when I need to be alone. But he also understands that I’m still Ashley, I have cactuses in my room, I love cheesecake and baggy sweaters, I love to paint, I want an italian greyhound and a weiner dog, I want to own a gallery, and that all of that and more outweighs the fact that I have anxiety disorder, that it doesn’t make me any harder to love than anyone else.
