I have a love-hate relationship with anxiety.
Anxiety has molded who I am today, for better and worse. My life would have been much simpler when I was younger to live without anxiety, because honestly it wasn’t needed. It made my childhood a very unhappy one, for no reason. I’ve always been very aware of myself, and my physical reactions to situations were powerful- so powerful that they became inhibiting. It made it very difficult to make friendships and I clung to the ones I did make. I didn’t realize what was wrong until I started dating and would have meltdowns from the stress or would be terribly embarrassed and not know why. I found out that I had social anxiety. I did years of therapy, and I can honestly say.. my anxiety is a part of me. It’s always going to be there, however now that I understand it, I can use it to my advantage. I use my anxiety as a prompt, motivation, to do everything the best I can. I use it to motivate me to make friendships- although I do still feel nervous sometimes. I am learning the art of social interaction, and how to make deep friendships with people I trust. I still keep most of my thoughts to myself, but I am learning to share. Sharing is a powerful tool when it comes to overcoming social anxiety and not letting it overcome you. Harnessing the power of anxiety and manipulating it to your betterment is a skill, and it is not an easy one to master. I am far from mastering my anxiety, but I don’t see it as an invisible monster anymore. I can recognize it’s face, and often can understand the cause and fallacy of the thoughts.
Pressure may make stone crumble, but it can also turn them into solid diamonds.
I sometimes feel like the glue that holds the house together. But sometimes the house is made of tissue and twigs, and the glue weighs it down. Or the house could be made of wood and glass and they need the glue to stay upright. And sometimes the house is made of rocks and brick, they already fit together and the glue is just an afterthought.
I know we’re supposed to see things that are scary as adventures or opportunities. I am struggling with this. I may be working in Brampton in the fall. I don’t know anyone from Brampton, and it’s too far from home to commute. I would have to live in residence and basically meet all new people. That terrifies me. I’m not going to lie- because the last person you should lie to is yourself (even though that’s the person we lie to the most). I want the job, it sounds like a great opportunity. But it’s still scary. I don’t see this as an opportunity to meet new people, I see it as starting over. My biggest weakness is my social game, the academic aspects I’m not worried about. What is there to fear though? That people will be mean to me? That I’ll have to spend time alone? Not every single person there is going to hate me, especially before they even meet me. If everyone does hate me, I guess I will just have a sweet fall romance with my Netflix account. But really, as introverted as I am, I need friends. I unconsciously wrote that sentence and then consciously read it back. I need friends, people I genuinely like. I hate needing things, or admitting it. I almost never make friends with coworkers, we just co-exist and co-work. It scares me that I will have to. I have no other way of meeting people. At this point lying to myself seems to be a better option than focusing on all the challenges ahead of me. I will be fine.
I’ve always thought adoption would be a good option for me. I like to help people and giving birth to another child in an overpopulated world hardly seems like a good idea. But I also like the thought of having a child that actually came from you and your favourite person in the world (or at least your favourite person to sleep with). I assume I may adopt one child and try to have one child of my own. Pregnancy does not appeal to me, but it seems to be worth it. This is why adoption seems so odd to me. How could anyone dedicate that amount of their life, their body and their soul just to give the child away. I understand that not all people want to have the child or they don’t have the means to take care of the child. But it just seems so tragic. I saw a program on the internet about how sometimes when North Americans adopt overseas, the child is actually kidnapped and sold to them. The fact that someone can decide to profit over neglected children is baffling. How can someone think like that?
I’m sitting in the library, trying to study for my Leadership midterm this evening (yes, that is a course and yes, it is mandatory). The course itself is not that difficult, I just have no idea what to study. I don’t like when professors just tell you to study everything. I don’t like the big picture, and I don’t believe in the big picture. I am a lover of detail. Detail creates everything, details help us understand. Some people feel trapped by detail, but I embrace it. Especially in uninspiring cases, such as this. The topic of leadership does not particularly excite me. I don’t consider myself to be a leader, but an individual. I don’t enjoy follow directions, and I don’t enjoy giving them. Such a negative post, but this has got me in a grumpy mood. Although through procrastinating I was reminded of a story that actually tickled me- which I will share with you. I used to watch Jerry Springer from time to time, I can’t anymore. Not because I don’t own a TV, or don’t get the channel, it just makes me feel sad. Anyways, a woman on the show was accused of cheating by her husband or boyfriend, I can’t remember. The reason she was accused of cheating was the best part. He found a male friend on her Myspace, and I guess she wasn’t allowed to have male friends. The friend was Tom. I don’t like to laugh at stories like this, but that almost made me break in the silence of the library. There is a tinge of sadness to the story, in that people who are that jealous and misinformed exist in this world, and it makes me feel a bit stuck up for laughing at someone’s genuine ignorance. It still cheered me up for a few minutes and inspired me to write this blog post which is really going nowhere. Back to the big, blinding picture which is studying.
I rarely have my heart broken, but it is right now. I’m sitting on my bed writing this and my heart is broken in two. Everything feels heavy. My head feels heavy, my arms feel heavy, my jaw feels heavy. There is a dizzying silence around me, and I can’t think. I just want to scream and cry and give someone a hug. Rejection is a terrible feeling at any time, but when it’s someone you loved or could have loved, it’s just terrible. But I know I’m better than this. I know I don’t have to have a broken heart, because a broken heart is for a broken person. I am still whole. There are no missing pieces. I am still good. I realize life goes on, and pain isn’t infinite. At the moment it comes in waves of realization of what is gone, but deep down I know that I am only better for not being loved. Stronger, wiser and deeply saddened.
I was thinking the other day about colours, as I drove in the passenger seat down the highway. The sun was setting into a beautiful orange, and later into dark pink. I thought to myself how beautiful the colours of nature are, and how fortunate we are to experience them. Some colours are delicate and fleeting, like a pink-blossomed tree near my house, which bloomed and decayed in the span of a week. Some are lasting, like the deep navy blue of the night sky, accompanied by speckles of luminous white. As lovely as the colours of nature are, they fill me with peace and happiness. I am very aware of them, and try to appreciate them all. However, I am in awe of how people are able to capture these colours and produce them to our liking. This seems like a silly thing to say, but manmade colours fill me with an excitement and inspiration. The colours of a painting or a photograph. The colours of clothing that allow self-expression. Even the colours of products, packaging and makeup. The heavenly pinks as light as feathers, rich bronzes and fresh, minty blues. When you fully appreciate all the colours around you, you can see the world in another light. It may be naïve, but these colours make my chest feel warm and relaxed. In me beats the heart of a consumer, the heart of a first-world poet. The colours we choose, write a story about who we are.