The Cruelty of Anxiety Disorders

I’ve heard people call others with anxiety disorders “drama queens.”  I’ve heard people say that others just need something to worry about or just like to worry or just thrive on stress.  And perhaps that is true for some people, but on behalf of all people who struggle with true, clinical anxiety, I would just like to stand up and say very loudly that it is not something we want or need or thrive on.  In fact, it’s just the opposite.

While I’m sure there are worse things out there, I can say that near the higher end of that list (extraordinarily high on the list for me) is a fear of your own thoughts.  A fear that at any time, a thought can pop into your head that will send you reeling for days.

Because that’s all it takes.  It can be a simple thought of some injustice I have done (or may possibly have done) to someone eons ago, or it could be a weird, random intrusive thought that will make me question its validity.  It can really be any number of things, and they can pop up at any time, and when they do, nearly nothing will take them away.

Sometimes I am able to keep them at bay.  Sometimes I am able to put them in perspective and realize that they are just random thoughts and I am somehow able to find a way to push them out of my mind for good.  But more often than not, they find fertile soil in my messed up mind, and they take root.  And once they do that, they hold on for dear life.  They dictate my every waking thought.  They convince me I’m a horrible person.  They convince me that I have to tell others about these thoughts to nullify them.  At times, I can’t even see things that are two feet in front of me because the real, physical world ceases to exist, and all that’s left is the anxiety that is alive and strong in my brain.

And to me, it’s one of the hardest things in life to deal with — a distrust of my brain.  I can’t trust my assessment of whether a thought or an event is really a concern.  I have to trust others’ assessments.

And I can’t trust my brain to keep me safe.  Because my brain convinces me of the validity of these worries and I feel an overwhelming need to tell particular people, and I worry those confessions will sever relationships.  And I definitely cannot trust my brain to keep me safe in other ways because it’s in my brain where the worst of my fears are generated — it’s in these thoughts.

It is absolutely horrible not to trust your own mind.

And I know 99% of people reading this won’t really understand it.  I’m just writing it for the 1% who might.  Because for the longest time, I thought it was just me.  I was the only one afflicted with these problems.  I was a freak.  But freak or not, no one will ever know they are not alone unless people stand up and talk.

And I’m also writing this for people who love people with anxiety issues.  Because I want people to know that it is not about being a drama queen.  Because to people with anxiety, it’s not drama.  It’s reality.  It doesn’t matter if you are falling off a cliff or just think you are falling off the cliff — the anxiety is the same.  It’s about perception not reality.  Although since perception creates our reality, I guess you could say it is about both.

I guess in the end, I just have to hope that it’s all for a reason.  I have to remember that this world isn’t perfect and that we weren’t created for this world, so we will never find true and lasting peace in it.  As with anything, I need to try to find the lesson in it and soldier on.  But let me tell you, it really really sucks.

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