Lately, I feel like my anxiety has taken over my life. There are always a million different “what could go wrong” scenarios going through my head. I don’t like going down hills because, “What if I fall?” I hate speaking up in class because, “What if I’m wrong? What if everyone laughs?” I don’t like trying new things because, “What if I’m not good at it?” I avoid social situations because, “What if they don’t want me there?”

I avoided hanging out with my roommates last night because I didn’t know where to sit. So instead of pulling over a chair, like most people would, I just walked through the living room to my room. And then had to sit in my room – alone. Listening to everyone else have a good time. Because something as simple as pulling over a chair made me too anxious.

Feeling isolated and alone has become a common feeling lately.

I hate who I turn into when I’m anxious. I become this person who is so insecure that she has to ask the same question twenty times- just to make sure that the answer hasn’t changed in the past two seconds. I become so needy and dependent. I become this person who constantly feels ignored, unloved, and abandoned – no matter what the scenario. I become this person who shoves the people that she loves away from her. As hard as she can. And I hate it. And I’m sick of it. Because it’s not who I am.

When I’m not feeling anxious, I’m a kind and understanding person. Or at the very least, I try my very best to be. But when I’m feeling anxious, I can’t understand that the reason that you’re texting while you’re sitting next to me is because you’re just trying to have a casual conversation with someone else. My brain always runs away with the worst case scenario. It goes from she’s texting because she would rather be anywhere else, to she’s texting because she would rather be with anyone else. But it’s not done there. It then snowballs into, she’s texting because she doesn’t care about me. And from there to, she’s texting about how much she hates me. It’s normally at about this point that the panic attack starts.

And the worst part is, is that I know that all of it is irrational. Yet, I am unable to stop. I’m trapped by my own brain.

Last night, I was so trapped by anxiety that I felt like everything was hopeless. That nothing good would ever happen to me. That my anxiety would destroy all of my relationships. That the future was only filled with more anxiety and panic attacks, and that there was nothing I could do to prevent it.

I’m not going to say that this feeling has completely gone away. That would be a lie. Especially, because I’ve recognized that I need anti-anxiety medication- something which my parents are very against. And unfortunately, they get the final say because I’m still on their health insurance. But I will say that now, post panic attack, there’s a glimmer of hope. If I don’t give up, keep going to therapy, and keep writing, things might eventually be okay.

-X