Now we’re on part two of my whole ‘I think honesty is a good idea’ thing, and according to my experiments, my former point still stands.
Listen guys, anxiety’s the worst. One second you’re fine, the other second you think the worlds going to end. I mean that literally. What starts off as ‘I really need to pay rent this week,’ becomes ‘I’m going to be homeless in exactly two days, there’s no one around to help me, and I may as well resort to a life of misery because I’ll be dead in less than a week.’ It’s awesome. Like, my favorite feeling in the world. One minute you’re having a normal, decent conversation with someone, and then something sets you off, and you literally want to do nothing but rock back and forth on the kitchen floor.
I’d say we’ve all been there, but I’m certainly hoping that’s not true.
And you know what the worst part is? The guilt. I’m a level headed, smart adult. I know what I’m doing, have a good plan in place, and every aspect of my life is going well right now. However, here I am, about to puke in the toilet again because my anxiety has gotten so bad in the past five minutes that I don’t think I’m going to be able to hold it in.
Why? Like I said, I’m capable. I can handle myself, everything is going well, and there’s absolutely no reason for me to be freaking out over anything. Not rent, nor boys, or the fact my mom’s out of town – nothing. And yet I’m in the middle of having a break down over something ridiculously unimportant – something that actually has nothing to do with me at all.
Of course, it just gets worse from there. What right do I have to freak out? Why the heck am I so unstable that I would lose it like this? It’s been four times this week already. I’ve already burdened my boyfriend with it twice, my mom sat with my yesterday for about an hour teaching me to breathe again, and now it’s happening again? Why am I so insane? Why the heck do I have to be a person who is so off their head that they can’t ever be stable? It’s so freaking maddening.
So here I am again, ruining another wonderful night with my boyfriend, crying into his chest as he’s far more patient with me than I could ever be with myself.
Fun fact about him, is that he’s the calmest, most level-headed person I’ve ever met. Yes, I’m sure he gets stressed and worries just like everyone else, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen him in a state that’s too far off from ‘chill.’ Now, I’ve talked to him about this stuff before, and he’s told me that he doesn’t like stressy or uptight people. He doesn’t like worriers, okay? And then there’s me – worry central.
So I apologize – or at least I think I did. I offered to make him food in the morning to make up for everything he’s had to put up with tonight. I told him that I was mad at myself for being so dumb and uptight, and that I wish I could be someone who wasn’t so high strung. I told him that I was so turtle loving done with my stupid anxiety problems, and I wish I wasn’t a person who was so insane.
Hey, at least I’ve learned how to be more honest with him, right?
But you know what he said? He told me to stop being so dumb. He told me that I wasn’t insane, and that there was absolutely nothing wrong with me. That I’m fine, not a bother, and I don’t have to do a single thing to make any of this up to him. He told me that I needed to give myself more grace, because I’m a normal human being like everyone else, and there was nothing crazy or awful about me at all. He said I was okay.
Listen, my anxiety – although sometimes triggered by him – has absolutely nothing to do with my boyfriend. At the end of the day, I’m going to feel anxious with or without him around. I’m going to freak out, cry, and there’s a good chance that despite how sweet he was tucking me into bed and making sure I was okay, I’m still going to end up sobbing myself to sleep tonight. No one, no matter how wonderful, can save me from that.
However, that’s the thing guys – like my boyfriend said to me today in his eloquent way of putting things – stop being dumb. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you. The guilt you may be feeling for your anxiety, the hours you spend rationalizing why you should be more stable, and the amount of time you end up getting fed up with yourself for being so irrational – dude, you’re okay. It’s not your fault.
You could be the cleverest, happiest, most successful person in the world, and you would still have anxiety. I can be happy with my life, my relationship, the direction my career is going in, and my friendships, and still have anxiety. I can be perfectly fine one minute, and the next I’m not, by no fault of my own or anyone else’s. And, despite how unpleasant that is to deal with, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with it.
You’re not insane. You’re a normal human being, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with you. Now it’s just a matter of believing that, hm?