Anxiety

11 10 2013

It’s no secret.  I have OCD.  And part of that OCD is the fact that I have an anxiety disorder.  Now, I’ve never been officially diagnosed, but I don’t feel like mental medication is the way for me to go.  There are certain aspects of my background that really set me up to becoming addicted or codependent upon behavior-influencing drugs and I don’t want to become that druggie.  My biological mother cannot survive without them, and I see how they can destroy a person and a life, and I just simply don’t want that.  So when my OCD started getting more intense, and the anxiety kicked up a notch, I made the decision that I would withold from anxiety-reducing medications, and try to handle it myself.  I don’t care one way or another about other people taking medications, I just know that I could potentially have the genes to go off the deep end with them, and I just don’t want to start fighting that battle just yet. 

My OCD takes mainly one form, and that is the necessity of routine.  I crave a routine.  Anytime I go on vacation, I try to maintain my routine, because that routine makes me feel like I “fit” somewhere.  By having that routine, I appear dependable, reliable, and it’s like I know my place in the world, all of a sudden.  If I get up every morning, get in the shower, wash my hair, and then my body and then my hair again, it’s going to be alright.  I know that If I don’t do this routine, I’ll be fine, but I have to, because I just have to.  It doesn’t make sense.  I eat breakfast, brush my teeth, change out of my pajamas and put on my clothes, and I go about my workday.    I end each day the same way.  Logically, I know that if I don’t do this routine, I’ll be okay.  Logically, it doesn’t make sense that I am dependent upon this routine….but I still have it.

Yesterday though, was a day of anxiety.  These are imaginary ghosts, as I like to call them, that insert thoughts into my head, and they distract me from the reality.  Part of this, I do believe, is from things from my childhood, the abuse, and other things like that.  The other part of that is that I really struggle with the acknowledgement that there are good things in my life, and that I deserve them.  I often will take subpar treatment by those in my life, simply because it’s better and easier for me to understand that I deserve someone who is so messed up and who tries to mess me up, than it is for me to understand someone who treats me very well.  But somehow, I have surrounded myself with family, friends and special people who are in my life that treat me very kindly and support me, and love me.  It’s so confusing.  Part of me is paranoid that something will be done or said, and one day, I’ll lose it all.  Or, if I don’t commit myself to someone, and show them that I’m theirs and we’re together, I’ll lose them.  This perspective is not a healthy outlook on my life.  It’s not.  I don’t want to live this way.  I really don’t.  There’s a part of me that knows I’m a pretty cool person, and knows that I have a lot to offer people, but the other part of me is telling me that I’m just simply not good enough.  But this is a depressing topic.

My anxiety also takes place in changes.  I get anxious when something is changing.  Like from going to school all my life, to working retail.  From having an extremely routine routine, to a lifestyle that bears no similarity to routine.  There are certain changes I am thinking of making in my life, and all that these thinkings do is to make me anxious.  And some changes, I fear that if I make, I’ll lose my family over, but I can’t withold my own happiness, I know, simply because I am afraid of losing people.  If they are truly loving of me, I know that they’ll be there, even if they don’t agree with my choices, I know they’ll still love me regardless and still want to be in my life. 

And that makes me more anxious.  It’s a neverending cycle. 

Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll deal with this anxiety all my life.  Sometimes, I know that it’ll be okay.  Sometimes, like right now, I feel utterly defeated by this anxiety.  That’s if I’m feeling really honest about it. 

Maybe one day, I’ll wake up, and make coffee before my shower.  Or, brush my teeth before I drink the coffee, although that feels extremely contradictory.  I don’t think mint-flavored coffee is a thing.  But who knows? 

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