Hi, friend.
I know what you’re thinking. It’s just me again with all the talk about the stress in my life...blah, blah, blah. You may be thinking that I just need to grow up and quit being such a baby; everyone has problems that they have to deal with, but nobody else needs medication. You may be thinking I just want somebody to throw me a pity party, but that’s not the case. Despite what you think you know, I really do need help in this time of need.
More than anything, I just want you to understand what I’m going through. Even though you think that everyone has stress and have even said, “Doesn’t everyone have anxiety?”, that really isn’t the case. Everyone experiences stress, but anxiety is a chemical disorder in the brain that causes me to feel like everything is crumbling around me. I am constantly having thoughts like: I’m not good enough, I should have never joined that club, or does that person even like me? I go to counseling once a week, and I would go more if I had the time. School makes me want to pull my hair out, and life makes me want to cry. I may look like I have it all together and am just a normal college kid, but on the inside I am slowly suffocating. I just wish you could see that I really am in need.
When I walk through campus and smile without thinking, I wish you knew that I really was just trying to hide all the agony my mind is putting me through. I talk and laugh like it’s my job, but deep down I’m convinced that you and everyone else are being my friends out of pity. Pity friends aren’t real friends. I wish you realized that even though you don’t mean it, the things you do and say can seem like the end of the world to me. Even an eye roll at something I say or a snarky comment at the wrong moment can send my mind spiraling into a long and depressive abyss. I’m not asking you to walk on broken glass around me, I’m just asking that you understand. I don’t want to be treated differently, but I do want to be understood.
Just like someone who is allergic to nuts expects their friends to not question why they won’t eat nuts, I ask that you understand why I act the way I do sometimes. I ask that you just know in your heart that even though I seem fine to know that I am not. I don’t want a constant question of if I’m okay because the answer will always be yes. I don’t want a hug--oh, lord, not a hug--I just want someone to understand. More than anything, I want you to understand.
With Love,
Your Anxious Friend
