“He doesn’t want supporters, he wants sycophants.” I thought that as I sat down at my desk this morning, the news playing in the background. I don’t want this first post to come from a place of divisiveness, so I’ll save political rantings for another time. Speaking of time, as I gaze backwards about 42 seconds, the words “first edition” replay in my mind. This is because even further back in time, say 5 minutes ago, I had no idea I would be starting this blog.
At this very moment, in consideration of why I’m writing, I think it’s because I really just felt a need to have someone to talk to. You might think a sufferer of anxiety disorder would consider social distancing a time for joyous rapture, but we do have our times when we actually want human interaction. Yesterday was one of those times for me. I can’t quite tune-in to the specific moment when I felt an overwhelming sense of loneliness yesterday, but when I did, the weight of the listlessness in the air forced me into baited breaths while I waited for the moment to pass.
When the longest relationship in your life is the one you’ve had with your anxiety, you learn how to cope with its mood swings. The most powerful coping mechanism one has in their arsenal is one we learn early in life, hone throughout childhood, and master during our teen years. Selective Hearing. That’s how I made it through yesterday, hearing but not listening to it. “Sorry anxiety, what’d you say?” I was busy chasing a rogue clump of cat hair wafting its way to the kitchen and didn’t hear you.
I’m tremendously frightful when expressing myself to someone where my inner-most thoughts and feelings are concerned. Direct eye contact makes me about as uncomfortable as a… Thoughts race through my mind at warp speed, while my ability to keep them in check has the alacrity of a 3-toed sloth. These thoughts, when tethered and ready for transmission, seem to generally form cohesive sentences but sometimes I find myself wondering, “Wait, what the hell did I just say?” Perhaps worst of all, controlling the urge for unbridled fidgeting.
Now, about that blog. Because of the struggles with trying to have these types of discussions with someone, I thought perhaps having them with no one in a forum that can be seen by practically anyone might work. That’s why this blog isn’t a cry for help, it’s a place for sharing those things I feel I cannot fully express any other way.