Introductions

One of the most important things to know about me in order to understand the bizarre world that I inhabit is that I have anxiety. Generalized anxiety disorder, GAD, a pretty severe case.

You'd think it would be pretty obvious, and it is if you know what you're looking for, but my problem for most of my life was that I didn't see it. They say that the first step to heal is admitting that you have a problem, but that's hard to do when you can't see it, and if anything, you're rewarded for it.

See, the really insidious thing about my anxiety, is that it taught me to be prepared for anything and everything. I only just took the emergency bleed kit out of my bag when I realized that maybe I shouldn't have over Thanksgiving, but that's another story... The point is that my EDC used to contain a bleed kit. My husband used to tell me that I wasn't very creative until he heard my unfiltered anxiety-brain spew forth stream-of-consciousness style an elaborate story about how we couldn't POSSIBLY leave town for the weekend because the new baby rat I'd introduced to our older boys would surely be eaten by him and I'd get back, go to pet him, and only realize that it was an empty skin. He, being a good boyfriend pointed out that the skin would be some of the first stuff to go to my frustrated rage.
This was all YEARS before my diagnosis and any idea that I had a problem.

Once I finally was diagnosed, I was able to look back on my past with a new lens though. So much of what feeds my demons is creative horror, hypotheticals if you will. Pathetic thoughts. Oh snap, a name this good must surely be taken already right?

It wasn't.

So I'm here, and so are you.

I don't know how you found my little site, but I'm glad you're here.

Back to me though *cough*
After diagnosis I was somewhat relieved to make sense of so much of what I had struggled with for so much of my life. You mean that THIS is why I freak out at unscripted questions when I give a talk that I've prepared for? Why I count things that I've already counted more than I care to think about? Prepare for EVERY scenario? That was a small comfort at least, but unfortunately knowing this doesn't actually make any of these issues go away. If anything, it just made me feel stupid for continuing to do all this stuff that I KNEW was ridiculous. So I did what anyone would do when faced with their own shortcomings; I lashed out at my loved ones. Okay not really, but I DID feel an immense sense of betrayal by all the people who had seen me suffer and done nothing for my whole life. Countless teachers, counselors, coaches, parents, and even my husband. My poor husband.

He'd dealt with some of my worst symptoms that only appeared after my parents temporarily disowned me, so it was with some hesitation and though tears that I asked him why he hadn't encouraged me to get help ever? His response?
"I just thought that's how you were"*
Well, he wasn't wrong. That is absolutely how I was/am, but that doesn't make it healthy.

Ironically I DID seek out counseling because of him, but not directly. He's more depressive, and I'd been encouraging him to seek help for a long time, ultimately booking an appointment for him. Long story short, he came out of counseling a new man. I tell people that it was like he'd been upgraded. So I thought, what's good for the goose is good for the gander; I'll do him a solid and get upgraded too!

Nevermind that the idea of letting a stranger into my head was so terrifying that I couldn't make any progress with talk therapy without getting drugs first (another long story) which is how I FINALLY got my diagnosis.

That's the origin story as least.
There will be more to come, but it's a good start.

Also, does anyone else have trouble getting shit done when they've been relying on anxiety for motivation their whole life, but are being medicated now? Just me? I've been meaning to write this for over a year, so hopefully the next post comes sooner than that!

*My therapist actually laughed when I told her this story