He was cynical, cunning, charming, even. He was a master manipulator, constantly tempting me to do the things of which I knew I shouldn’t do. My thoughts would fight him as he would wangle himself an invitation to my mind. He would get his way as he encouraged fear, sadness, loneliness, and emptiness to disseminate, making my head their new home. School became an enemy, friends became strangers, light became darkness; daily responsibilities and necessities became infeasible tasks that worked my being to the bone.
Yet in some strange way, I welcomed him. I became intrigued by his ideas and how enticing they seemed. Why would I go to school when I could stay in the comfortable confinements of my bed? Why should I fight the fear that oppressed my chest, when I could avoid confrontation all together?
For the longest time, I wrongly believed that I was my mental illness. Major depression and social phobia held me prisoner for years as I let them come together and live my life for me. Eventually, I realized that his voice lived within me, but was not Me. It was not until I gave him a name that I was able to overcome my suffering and truly live my life.
Annoying Anthony.
He was depression though he wore anxiety’s boots. Giving him a name made him less powerful while I could differentiate his voice from the thoughts that were Me. Instead of being held in shackles, I was unconfined from his grip as instead of shunning the sunrise from under covers, I could confidently defy his existence. “Shut up, Anthony!” I was then able to laugh to myself, as I discovered the energy to swing one leg over the bed and step onto the sun beamed ground that welcomed a new day; one of hope.
You are not your anxiety.
You are not the fear that consumes your thoughts, nor the hastening heartbeat that sends your head into darkness. You are not the stress he accumulates, nor the avoidance he encourages. You are not his choice of loneliness when your sole desire is the company of a friend. You are not the tears that you cry, the migraines you bear, or the silence he forces upon you when all you want to do is to scream.
(That is Frustrating Fred.)
You are the lessons that you learn from the experiences you are blessed with. You are the squinty eyes that accompany the laugh that brightens any dark room and puts all stars to shame. You are the stories you tell, the people you love, the books you read. You are the way you roll your eyes when your mom tells you to do something you don’t want to do, the excitement that follows your perfection of a newly learned dance. You are the hope that engulfs you, the dreams that drive you, and the love that surrounds you.
Although Annoying Anthony is, in fact, annoying, I still appreciate his presence from time to time. I don’t think he will ever go away and I have come to not only accept that but maybe even find some comfort in such knowing. His visits leave me with a reminder to appreciate life’s little blessings and to live in the now as opposed to living in constant fear and worry of what tomorrow, next week, or next year will bring. The best part about his visits are his departure, as all that was bad, no longer seems so bad at all.
I would never wish suffering on anyone, especially you. But suffering will teach you more, and open more doors for you than good health ever could. Without Annoying Anthony, I would have no reason to go to college in a place that is every social phobic’s worst nightmare. I would have never pushed myself to obtain leadership positions or have chosen internships that challenged me to overcome him. In times of panic or distress, I wouldn't have him next to me, to help me realize who I am or who I want to be. Without him, I wouldn't have something to push me to be better, to aid in my becoming. Because of him, I consider myself lucky. Because of him, I not only survived, but I thrived.
The funny thing about suffering is that the only people who truly understand suffering are those that suffer themselves. When Fred comes around there is a good chance that he will tell you to lock yourself in your room and hide from the world. And you will want to listen to him. However, if you decide to call him out, you will realize that what You really want, is to talk to someone that understands. Know you have me, and now I know, I am lucky enough to have you.
Love, Ange
