When I was
16 and figured out I wasn’t handling life the way I ought to, I started to blame it on myself… not that most people don’t. Most successful people I know have a
natural habit of constructive self-criticism which they utilise to their own
betterment. That’s awesome. I really like the idea of doing that – but the
problem is, I still don’t really know how. I don’t think my mind quite grasps
that fine line where self-criticism switches nastily into sad, unhelpful
self-loathing. And that’s where the cycle begins. 1. You loathe yourself for
wasting time harbouring useless and tragic self-pity 2. You spend lots of time
thinking about loathing your own actions – then, 3. Due to this rotation of unending
pondering, you end up stagnant and not doing anything to better yourself.
Then, wait
for it, the cycle repeats.
That is my
kind of anxiety, and it has been for roughly five years. When I first started
talking to people about it, I remember always offhandedly explaining my anxiety
like this – “I’m just so stressed because I want to be a doctor and it seems
like such an impossible dream – I just can’t help but feel like I’m not good
enough. (I’m not good enough; I’m not good enough; wash, rinse, repeat). Then, the unthinkable happened – I got the
official acceptance I always wanted… what I thought would be the certified valuation
of my capacity as a human. Everything would be better from this point. I always
believed my anxiety would leave me seamlessly; like med school acceptance would
be the breaking of the cocoon.
It wasn’t.
I’m not magically a worry-free butterfly and the cycle did not effortlessly
cease. Actually, I’m putting this down in writing right now because I’m having
this great moment of acceptance where I have realised I’m actually experiencing
more anxiety than ever before, but I’m putting my pen to paper to motivate myself
to fight it.
The hardest
part about it recently hasn’t been the academics, because, well frankly – a lot
of the people I surround myself with are struggling too. What I’m most
frustrated with right now is how my thoughts and actions affect other people. I’ve
distanced myself on and off from many people without warning, and worst of all,
I frantically air out my self-esteem issues by consistently emotionally testing
people I love.
A number of
thoughtcatalog blogs and mental-health discussion pieces circulating the net which
highlight the adversity of being in a relationship with someone who has
depression/anxiety have really hit the nail on the head:
In my lows
I cannot believe a person will stay because I don’t see why on earth they
would.
Self-pity,
yep. There it is again.
Right now
in this moment of reprieve I can see the faults in my actions. I am clear-headed
enough to apologise for being detached from my friends or harsh and ungrateful
to those I care for the most. I can see the self-obsession and the cycle of
dependence I’m creating.
Yet, with the
undeserved help of the people I am wronging, I wake up most days and get (some)
things done. I’m actually so grateful to my acquaintances, too. Thank you, one
thousand times thank you. Thank you for the hugs and the smiles and the “how
have you been?”s. Thank you for not letting me slip through the cracks. I am often
okay because many of you help me be okay and that’s pretty cool. You’re pretty
cool.
So there it
is. I am not always fine – and it’s likely that you’re not always fine too. But
that’s not too bad because shit things happen and are always going to happen. Just keep
swimmin’ and realise that the bad thoughts you carry around might never leave
you, but be proud of yourself for sometimes having the strength to push them
away.
I’m always
around for a chat and a big ‘ol hug if you feel these things too. Let me know,
and maybe together we can make a current so the swim’s just that little bit easier.
