I work so hard to fight my anxiety. To fight feeling out of control.
Authority figures terrify me. I’m not sure why because I pretty much never get in trouble. Talking to teachers, I’d literally bit my tongue to hold back tears. When I got pulled over for speeding (the one and only time), I cried uncontrollably. Just thinking about confronting someone will eventually leave me sitting on the floor, rocking back and forth, trying to remember how to breathe.
I hate how stupid it is. I know, logically, that these things are survivable. I know that. But my body tenses up. My chest tries to strangle my heart beat under control. My brain won’t slow down. It thinks and pushes the thoughts and feelings further and further. Then I’m doubly frustrated, first at whatever situation calls for a confrontation, and second that I can’t get myself under control enough to actually do what’s necessary.
So I plan. I put systems in place so as few things as possible upset me. And that works, sometimes. But life is unpredictable, uncontrollable. People misunderstand and their intentions aren’t always clear.
In order to survive, I’m putting better systems in place. Seeing a counselor. Exercising. An app on my phone. Challenging myself.
I can’t avoid me forever.