Jul 2, 2010

ANXIETY RIDING ROUGHSHOD ON POOR ME;



"They say a solution to any problem first lies with the acknowledgment that you have a problem. For a while now, I have pretended that mine is no problem but a destined way of living. I might have lost a few friends but I am now more than ever determined to gain them back. I just hope they can understand what it means to have a super anxiety condition. 

Anxiety cracks my bones as I often contemplate of this thing called the future and what is bound to come out of me while I have my being. It’s nothing that you can call worry or compare to stress. It is a super anxiety that tears one down both physically and psychologically.

Enough of what it is but here is what has become of me as a result of this anxiety. I am hardly a quarter a century old but I almost feel twice as old as I am. As I calculate every single move in life, I do it with such extraordinary vigor that often exposes me as an eminent perfectionist.

A perfectionist it is; that is what I am and to a large extent" who I have become but certainly not who I ought to be. The anxious me finds it hard to relate with people of my age, leave alone those that are even younger. I hate a critic that I am; hardly does anything impress me.

I spend a lion’s share of my time grappling with my insecurity which like a rocking chair keeps me busy but gets me nowhere. My wild ambitions do not allow me to be easily tolerant. I am so quick at dismissing opinions that I consider irrational and I don’t find comfort in people who think they know it all.

Every time I act in any way less expected by me as a person of my perceived caliber, my moods get corrupted absolutely as guilt consumes me like the worst inferno you can imagine of. The bottom line in all these is my genuine desire to perfect the person in me that determines what I do and how I do it while I have my being.

I unfortunately do not belong to a category of many good people who can easily withstand embarrassment. This inspires a super careful and cautious character in me and any slight embarrassment literally begets a very pugnacious me. For this specific reason, I tend to avoid being a spontaneous person. I amply rehearse for expected situations and often postpone those that come abruptly.

My hard to impress psyche has no limit to anything worth my anxiety. Even for matters of the heart, I do not just absorb when it is not clear to me what the substance may make of me while I have my being. That is why it is hard, almost impossible for me to find it comfortable to settle down with any woman. It’s all for the fear of making a wrong choice.

No ordinary thing easily boggles my mind and therefore I opt to indulge in complicated staff. This explains why I bliss in being sophisticated satisfying my obsession for being different and above board.

People like me and paranoids often belong to the same school of thought. It is nothing to be proud of and I do not want to indulge in describing my dilemma further. Neither do I want to keep pandering on my doctors’ advice which is not working. All I need are friends who are willing to save me from myself." This is a story of a friend of mine.