Irrational and Unreasonable – Why You Don’t Have To Understand My Anxiety
My fate is resting in my hands. If I make the wrong choice, my entire life could fall apart. My nerves chatter with anxiety and it wraps itself around my throat. I can’t make this decision. It’s too important and I’m sure I’ll make the wrong choice. So I turn to my boyfriend and ask the question – “Which of these shirts should I wear today?”
It sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it? It is. It’s irrational. It’s unreasonable. And I am fully aware of that. Logically, I know that the world will not explode if I wear the wrong shirt. Is there even a right or wrong shirt for a Saturday running errands where you’ll wear a sweatshirt over it all day? But I can’t help it. I can’t stop this panic. And it’s not limited to shirts – anything is fair game for my anxiety.
I argue with myself constantly
Stumbling across an issue I don’t know how to fix at work, I often find myself spinning in circles to convince myself to make the call to the lead of the administration staff. My internal dialogue is full of conflicting thoughts.
“Ask the question.”
“But what if she gets upset? Shouldn’t I know the answer?”
“Well would you rather risk messing it up?”
“She’s going to be annoyed with me.”
“You don’t know that. And wouldn’t it be worse to do it wrong anyway?”
“But what if she hates me? And then tells everyone how awful I am and nobody will like me?”
“You know that’s not true.”
“Is it?”
“Now look at all the time you’ve wasted – just call her!”
“She just got off a call with someone else; maybe I should wait so she has some time in between.”
“But this needs to be done now!”
“But what if –“
“They like you! They’ve told you they like you! Calm down!”
“But –“
“Just make the call!”
“Okay, deep breath. You can do this. You can do this. It’ll be okay… I hope.”
I am consumed by a need for an unachievable level of perfection in an effort to avoid failure. Why? Because my mind tells me that if I fail at anything I will be abandoned by everyone.
This isn’t just reserved for interactions with people at work or in public.
The slightest disagreement between myself and my boyfriend sends me down a rabbit hole.
“See, this is never going to work out.”
“But it’s just a stupid disagreement.”
“He’s going to leave you. He’s probably been planning on it for a while. Can’t you tell by how he talks? He clearly sees himself as having a life without you.”
“Relax, you didn’t even argue with him.”
“So? It’s a miracle he’s stayed this long. You are an awful person. Why would anyone want to live with you?”
“I know I’m not always easy to live with, but he did move over 2000 miles to be with me. He wouldn’t do that if he didn’t really love me. He’s given up a lot to be with me.”
“And he probably regrets it. It probably ruined his life.”
“Okay, but really, I think getting upset about the dirty dishes isn’t cause for the breakup of a three year relationship.”
“But living with your crap is. It’s just a matter of time.”
When I was young, I chalked my thoughts and actions up to competitiveness and wanting to challenge myself.
Those weren’t entirely incorrect, but I didn’t recognize the fear, panic, or slowly intensifying need for perfection. Entering college with my shiny new schizoaffective disorder and the two severe psychotic episodes that occurred in those four years pushed these feelings forward. But after an intensely traumatizing relationship, everything went into overdrive. As life moved on, even with positive changes mixed with the negative, it continued to build. And it wasn’t until recently that I realized it’s a desperate attempt to prevent everyone from abandoning me.
My anxiety isn’t a mindset, it’s a way of life.
After I began meeting with her, my psychiatrist quickly realized that affirmations and self-care alone were not going to solve this. The logic is there in my head, I don’t need anyone to point anything out. It’s like trying to redirect a river of crashing whitewater with a bucket.
These thought patterns have become deeply ingrained habits. For me, breaking these habits feels like a momentous challenge. And the path to getting there involves some serious planning, time for treatment, and financial strain. I don’t know how we’re going to make it work, but we’re doing everything we can to make it happen. Honestly, I’m afraid of what life will be like if we don’t.
Recently, I sat on my bed, laptop balanced on a stack of pillows for teletherapy, and told my psychiatrist that I am afraid that I am unfixable.
It feels like this is a piece of me or a part of my personality. How do you change that? She acknowledged the fear and the fact that this is going to be difficult, but that it really is something that can be worked on. Logically, I believe her. But, at the same time, my mind was already falling into a dark labyrinth of hopelessness. How can this be fixed when we don’t even understand it?
The way others perceive what I’m going through impacts me as well.
Sometimes I actually get angry when people tell me they can relate or that they understand. And I’ve wrestled with the anger. But for someone to suggest they’ve been through this too when they did not need extensive treatment like I do can feel like a put down. It can make me feel like they perceive me as being unable to handle something that others could. I know it’s not intended as such, but what I actually want is for people to understand that they don’t understand.
Anxiety comes in a vast variety of shapes and sizes. Which is not necessarily a bad thing. I don’t want others to have to go through what I have or anything like it. At the same time, this isn’t to say that I have the worst anxiety anyone has ever had. Or that the anxiety of others is any less important or less valid. It is important and it is valid. But it’s also different.
I really hesitated on sharing this.
I’m embarrassed by the things that send me spinning, like nearly breaking down when my boyfriend, in an effort to help, initially refused to pick a shirt for me. And I feel bad about being frustrated with others who are only trying to show support. But I need people to know that it’s okay if you don’t understand. I don’t expect you to; this isn’t a typical type of anxiety. Just as every person is unique, so are their experiences. And it’s important to recognize that. You can still empathize and you can still share your experiences with me as a show of support. Support doesn’t require a full understanding. I just need you to understand that you don’t understand. And that’s okay.
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