What is it like to be me? I know I already wrote about what it’s like to live with anxiety, and I got a lot of feedback from people who feel the same way. But what about the people who just don’t understand, the people who cannot comprehend such issues? How do I perceive anxiety compared to those around me? Well, I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you about every topic you want to know and tell you how my anxiety effects my life in some way.
How would you feel wondering what everyone is thinking all the time because you’re so insecure and you need the approval of others to make yourself feel OK? The second someone says something bad about me and I hear about it, it sets me back three steps. It’s the information being gripped by the hands of my anxiety and thrown into a whirlwind of self-hatred that never seems to end. The way I feel about myself is altered, because I haven’t succeeded in pleasing everyone. Because pleasing everyone is impossible. It’s so irrational and that when the rational side of my brain goes back and thinks about it, I could not believe I was actually upset about that.
How would you feel spending most each day wondering why you even are that insecure in the first place? If you were me, you’d spend so much of your time finding all your flaws that you spare none in thinking about how great of a person you are. Others can tell you’re great and pretty, and kind, and all that junk, and it’ll just feel weird hitting your ears because you only see the things wrong with you. You can only see the tiny trivial details that no one else will catch. Every time you have a positive thought about yourself, something in your head shoots it down. Something in your head does not want you to be happy in your own skin.
If you were like me, you’d constantly fear that people have it out for you. You’d constantly worry that you’re doing something wrong in the eyes of others that would cause them to betray you. Yes, in my article I mentioned that you cannot suspect that people being upset is personal, but to put it gently I suck at taking my own advice. I feel the need to watch my every move and word, worrying that it might someone else I care about will see me as the crappy person I perceive myself to be.
But it does not stop there. There’s so much more I stress over. In fact, here’s a comical list of legitimate worries I think about each day.
What if I blow dry my hair and it’s too loud and my roommates get mad at me?
Oh, my god, I’m not going anywhere in life. I’m going to flip burgers at McDonalds.
If I don’t fix this cowlick in my hair, people are going to think I don’t care about my appearance.
I really hope it isn’t windy today because then people will see my forehead. (I hate my forehead. I really don’t know why.)
Did I feed my fish before I left this morning?
Did I turn off my hair straightener before I left this morning? What if I burn down my dorm?
I wish I was good at math or science.
Why can I just not grasp physics? I’d get such a better job if I understood physics.
What if I pull out this plug from the outlet and get electrocuted?
Do I have resting bitch face?
What if I make a bad batch of baked goods and everyone hates me because of it?
When am I going to do my laundry?
It’s so humid out and my hair is going to frizz up and people are going to think I’m a slob.
What if I say something stupid and everyone hates me?
Am I annoying these people?
Is my presence upsetting someone?
And so on. Some of these are such stupid thoughts that I actually was ashamed to write them. But, hey, they’re part of who I am.
So, yeah, my mind is pretty crazy. That’s just what anxiety can do to a person. But don’t get me wrong, I do have a rational side as well and it’s getting more of a say than it used to. Maybe one day it will be all I have. The rational side knows I don’t suck as a person. The rational side knows I have people who care and that I deserve that. It knows I’m a very friendly person who genuinely cares about the wellbeing and happiness of others. It knows I am someone who is good at baking, talking, writing, laughing, and helping people. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again- Anxiety does not define me.
