Tuesday, January 26, 2016

Anxiety? Me?! Well....ya.

Last week, while wasting way too much time reading junk on Facebook, I read something that has completely changed my perspective...of myself.

It wasn't so much the portion about depression, it was the part about anxiety. As much as I know I'm a worrier, I never stopped to examine just exactly how much my worrying, or anxiety, effects every single element of my life.

I care so much about everything and everyone. I'm a people pleaser, in the extreme. I'm a perfectionist. I function best when things are tidy, uncluttered and chaos-free...which is hilarious, since I have three kids. I'm indecisive...well...ya....I'm indecisive. I'm cautious, to the point where I let it hold me back. I embarrass easily, but I'm an excellent public speaker. I want friends, but when people try to befriend me, I'm standoffish. I'm definitely my own worst enemy.

I have had more business ideas over the past 10 years than a whole family could ever come up with in a lifetime, yet I do nothing about them...and then inevitably, six months later, someone has seemingly stolen my incredible idea and become an instant success. I'm creative, imaginative, thoughtful and am over flowing with common sense.

All of that said, this stupid anxiety holds me back! I don't use my French very often, because I hate the thought that people are judging my lack of French accent. I don't join Zumba (which I LOVE) because I'm not very coordinated and hate the thought of people making fun of my klutziness. I have wanted to take singing lessons for years, but the idea of singing one-on-one with someone makes me feel uncomfortable just thinking about it. I don't start any one of my business ideas because I'm afraid of failing...I also need a huge loan, that I'm afraid of getting rejected on. Geesh.

The sad part is, unless you have anxiety, you'll read this and think that if I just worked up a little courage, I could push through all of this crap. If only it were that simple. I can't stress enough, that anxiety is at the very root of my being. It is there, all the time, even when it seems like it's not.

They say the first step is acknowledging you have a problem. Thanks to some post on Facebook, that I was clearly meant to read, I've at least acknowledged that I'm not simply an excessive, over the top worrier...there's more to it, and sadly, it runs in my family.

I'm sitting here, staring at the computer screen, trying to think of a "second step" to working on my anxiety and have to laugh at myself. I thought about heading out and trying something new, to challenge myself, but got concerned the roads might be icy (it's sunny and above freezing) and decided to stay in. Ha! Well, I guess it'll be harder than I thought.

To those who can relate, even a little to this jumble, at least we're not alone.

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