When I was small I used to play out scenarios in my head of “what-if” situations and stress over the imaginary outcomes for hours. Sometimes I wonder if this early indication of anxiety is something I was genetically predisposed to or something that just worsened over time.
Don’t get me wrong– I’ve come a long way. I used to be scared of meaningless tasks, like walking into a room full of people or placing an order at a restaurant. I loathe the worrying. The constant go-go-go in my mind makes life feel exhausting. If I didn’t spend the greater portion of my day worrying about what came next, I might actually enjoy what’s right in front of me.
When people think of the word anxiety, they likely think about minor worry or nervousness. Rarely do they think of the intense headaches, fatigue, shaking, crying, and frequent panic attacks. I’m not weak, I just have a lot of intense feelings and thoughts that lack a positive outlet.
I care deeply about everything even if I don’t initially show it. I have so much love for a lot of things and I have a difficult time expressing myself thanks to my friend Fear. I love a lot and I don’t want to lose the things that allow me to be myself.
I don’t like being cynical, but I do like to be honest with myself about my fears and their control over my daily life. I won’t pretend like I’m not perpetually scared of the what-ifs– I definitely am. What’s scarier than the what-ifs? Missing out on good things because Fear has me by the throat.
The anxiety might never go away, but neither will my desire to be better.