For me, life is an overwhelming experience. There is always too much to do, not enough money to do it, and no way to remember it all. Countless thoughts run through my head in any given moment, and it’s impossible for me to stay on top of them all. When I realize something has been forgotten, I belittle myself mercifully. The forgotten task is a reminder that I need to think harder… remember better, be more organized, be better. This is what it’s like to live with my anxiety.
Always worried that the other shoe will drop. Worry has dominated my emotions for as long as I can remember. Today is no exception. There are many types of anxiety and/or phobia disorders, and mine is probably one of the more common ones. I fall under the definition of Generalized Anxiety Disorder. The name is appropriate. I’m generally always anxious. What makes me anxious typically revolves around security and love; however, I can be triggered by the stranges things at times.
The other night, for example, I woke up because I heard a car speed by my house. Half asleep, I became extremely anxious that all the cars on the road were speeding and someone was going to cause an accident. My mind wouldn’t let it go; each car I heard from then on fuelled my panic. It got so bad that I started to fear the thought of driving to work the next day. I was terrified of not having control of my car or of having someone else hit me. There’s no basis for this fear — I’ve had maybe 2 minor car accidents in the 26 years I’ve been driving, but for some reason I couldn’t think rationally.
Another trigger for my anxiety is my extremely high expectations of myself. I’m never thin enough, smart enough, kind enough, creative enough — I’m never enough. I have several theories as to why I am that way, but the reasons why don’t change it. I’ve been seriously considering asking my doctor to put me back on my medication. Medication doesn’t rid me of anxiety, but it does eliminate my panic attacks. I’m been waying out this decision ever since I stopped taking my meds back in June 2016. It isn’t an easy one for me. I’m conflicted by my thoughts. I’m walking the line between my contrasting opinions of being medicated. Until the decision is made, I can only manage one day at a time. I suit up each day with my armour of humour, writing, wine, and physical activity.
I’m at war with myself every day, and I have no idea who is winning.
Here’s a little Johnny Cash to finish off the week with.