Worry. Worry worry worry.

Found an unpublished draft when I was going though old posts. I wrote this a couple of weeks ago:

I fell asleep last night worrying that my lack of nervous breakdown over not seeing S over the weekend means I’ve fallen out of love with him. Ignoring the obvious signs that I’m utterly batshit-crazy over the guy, I decided that because I wasn’t weeping into my pillow, it must mean that somehow, overnight, my love for him has died.

Sometimes it’s like another part of myself takes over, pokes me and says, “Hey! You know the way you weren’t worrying about anything? Now you are!”. I set myself up to get upset for no reason at all, and it’s frustrating beyond belief when I start imagining that my relationship with S is doomed, because there’s very little sense or reason to any of it.

I’m not as bad as I was with O; not by a long way. Still, sometimes I do worry that I may be without S one day, or that he might in some way betray me. The thought crushes me, and I don’t seem able to entirely banish that worry from the back of my mind.

I sometimes even worry that I’m not worrying enough. Or worry because I’m worried; so something must be wrong. I’m not half as anxious as I used to be (thanks to cipralex and beta-blockers) but the fear still lurks in the background at all times. It’s still there, just muffled by chemicals.

I also worry that worrying is normal, and I’m treating something natural like it’s the enemy. I know my flight vs. fight response is broken, and I panic rather than make a useful move whenever something stressful happens. My reaction to panic is to calm myself with anything which will numb my feelings, which continues the whole addiction cycle. Is that a normal reaction? There’s no doubt that worry and fear has caused a lot of problems in my life, making me react dangerously to situations and get myself into emotional states I can’t control, and I can’t quite see that as being the way everyone else reacts.

I’ve lost count of the number of times someone has told me to just stop worrying, and live in the present. I’ve tried – god knows I’ve tried – but all I can often see is a gaping chasm where my future should be, a dark place full of uncertainty, and it scares me. I can’t help but think about it, and thinking naturally leads to panicking.

A few years ago, I was a permanent nervous wreck. Speaking to strangers was out of the question, and I spent most of my time squashed up against a wall, trying to avoid conversation in case I said something stupid. Speaking on the telephone simply didn’t happen, and I never answered the door or knocked on someone else’s. Somebody else would have to pay for me in shops, because dealing with the whole process of speaking to staff and counting money out sent me into a panic attack. I couldn’t function.

I’m a million miles away from that now. I still struggle with worrying and panic attacks, but the medication has them mostly under some sort of control. If I miss a few doses, I’m back to hovering over the phone in case someone texts me and refusing to communicate.

It’s strange to know that, under this chemical mask, I’m still a nervous wreck incapable of reacting rationally to small problems. I’ve been this way for so long that I can’t ever see a time when that anxiety will be gone for good. It’s a part of who I am; the panic has become ingrained into my personality.

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