*Trigger warning: suicide, strong language.
Since the idea for my blog was based off of my worsening anxiety attacks, this will be where I address my experience with anxiety.
I have always had anxiety in the back of my mind that I was able to keep under control. It started as not being able to make my family happy and feeling like a constant disappointment. I never got good grades, they were decent but definitely not up to the expectations I assumed my family wanted. I dropped out of high school, eventually went on to get a equivalency certificate. I was smoking crack at the age of 14. I was running wild. When I was on drugs, I wasn’t necessarily concerned with who I was making proud because let’s face it, a high school dropout who is addicted to drugs and dating a guy years older than her when she is 14 wouldn’t really make anyone proud. Like I said, it was under control and I really didn’t give a fuck as long as I was getting high, I was happy.
Well when you’re done with the drugs and the shitty relationship, where do you go from there? Crack was a blessing and a curse. It ruined what teenage years I did have, but at the same time I grew so much as a person; I went through bullshit, I learned how to be tough, I learned street smarts and common sense, I learned how to love myself enough to say that I knew I was worth more.
But, what is more? I went from drugs and drinking to just drinking and smoking a little weed. I went through my fare share of dating multiple females, and a couple of men, but I found myself more attracted to females. HOLD THE FUCK UP. This would be one of my greatest “fuck ups” according to my grandmother. I found myself in a serious relationship with a girl who took YEARS of my life away. Queen of fucking up right here. You think you’re in love with someone because you’re comfortable. You’re blinded not by love, but by comfort. My anxieties weren’t that strong then either – because to be honest, nothing could be as worse as the boy who tried to take my life daily. I was content with where I was; and where I was is a long story for another time.
So let’s fast forward with a long story cut short – I spent 5 years with someone who took advantage of everything I had inside me. I trusted someone who took everything I believed in, my trust, my faith and destroyed it. I wanted to believe that she was not capable of hurting me, so I made myself believe this. She cheated, I found out years later, I was tired of putting up with her shit and I left.
Today, I have fear of things going right. Because as I know it, when things go just right, they fall apart. This, I believe, is where my anxiety stems from. Things can’t go perfect, because when they do – they go wrong. I am the happiest I have ever been, in the relationship with the man I am with now. I have cut off everyone’s expectations for me simply because it is exhausting to try to please everyone. I can’t do it, and I won’t. So little by little I am trying to take steps to try to make everything go “right”. Without losing what I have. If I get a great opportunity, I have a fear of success, because with success comes failure. I can’t fail anymore. Thinking about being successful at something sends me into a full-blown anxiety attack. I could get an anxiety attack by not thinking about anything at all. So how do I cope? I write. I write until I cannot write any more.
Having anxiety is probably one of the most scary feelings you will ever have. Personally, I range from something I can shake off to wondering if everyone around me would be better off without me. I have attempted suicide, I have released pain other ways, I have gone numb – I stop talking to everyone around me, I cut people off, I stop caring. I realize now that these things aren’t going to solve anything, and honestly they only make my anxiety worse. I have a few people that have read these posts that know me personally, and knowing that I have helped just a few people, or could possibly help them.. Helps me.
Anxiety won’t define me forever. I have an addictive personality and I refuse to take medication because I am not going down that road again. So I am facing it head on, with the help of those who love me… care about me… I’m going to help myself, by writing, by sharing my stories, by helping who I can.