Living With Anxiety | Personal Blog

 I've noticed something interesting.  People say that your dreams are a reflection of your reality. I definitely agree with that. I have had dreams about Radiohead (my favorite band), or Half-Life (my favorite game). I've had dreams with my real life friends in them, current or past. I've had dreams where I basically repeat something that happened in my real life but exaggerated in an AI-generated fashion by my brain. Thankfully (or not thankfully) none of these have been lucid dreams. Though, between my dreams about meeting Thom Yorke and going with my ex-friend on a strange adventure, I also have some dreams related to traumatic events in my life. There are a few examples I can pinpoint: 1. Nightmares about my old living space. 2. About my family. 3. About school. I find it interesting that my brain is so caught up on trauma in my life that it carries over into my dreams. No doubt that dreams are influenced by subjects the brain is infatuated with. I suppose trauma would ...

 Usually my anxiety concerns the world around me. Dentist appointments, school tests, family matters, et cetera. But sometimes I notice anxiety can be revolved specifically around me and what I do. In particular, I notice it all comes back to one part of my life all the way back in 2019. I believe I have detailed this story once before. I was a young teenager, still in middle school. I had a small group of friends who were both in my school and on an online chatting software. Even though I was considered their friends, I felt very out of place in the group. I was weird but in a way that they were not. I obsessed over a fictional character and posted about him constantly, to the annoyance of the group. I didn't understand their senses of humor. I felt so polarized from the group that they considered me expendable (their words not mine). I was removed at some point. I didn't have any friends left to go to. Ever since then I have thought about the person I "used" to be. ...

 I would say that all my life I have at the very least been a shy person. Over time, possibly over the course of a decade, that built into a noticeable anxiety disorder. At this point I'm a wreck. Unfortunately that has been made no better by the way people have treated me when I'm feeling anxious. All my life, especially in school, I have faced people downplaying my anxiety and criticizing me for not acting in a certain way despite my anxiety.  Before I criticize all of those who haven't treated anxiety with the seriousness I feel it deserves, I am very grateful to say there are people who do understand and sympathize with me. Notably, when I went to the dentist for a cleaning a few months ago, the hygienist noticed I was having a panic attack about having an X-ray and respectfully and patiently helped me calm down so that I could get it done. That level of respect being shown to me is a rarity, and I'm very thankful for it. Anxiety is hard to understand, and I too can...

 I have so many things I wish to say but I have unwanted eyes looking at me.

I've noticed a bit of a pattern in the relationships that I have with others. Often, I'll meet people who I relate to and who like (or at the very least, understand/empathize with) who I am. But other times, I'll meet people who seem that way, but end up being judgmental towards me. They seem like chill people, not giving a damn about who I am or what I say. But when things get too far for them, they'll break off without warning. That has happened to me twice within the range of three years. It's hard to really understand, at least in the moment, who is in the wrong in that situation. I can empathize with those who wish to avoid judgement; they don't want to hear bad things said about them, even if not directed to them. When people talk about online artists as if they are the most retarded scum of the Earth, it hurts me a little, even if they don't specifically say my name. But, when it comes to more personal relationships, such as the two I eluded to, you h...

I haven't been documenting myself lately because there hasn't really been much to share in the past year. I figure, at least once in a while, I should come back here. Really this blog is just for myself. I guess I don't mind if people read it. But I would prefer if people I know don't read it. It's a weird request to have. I guess I just don't want people to judge me. I've been having some very unusual feelings lately. I've made observations about myself that almost feel like the descent of who I was in the past. Not necessarily the normal "growing up" changes, just the slow recession of someone who is dealing with mental illness. I guess if I someday go insane and end up in a psyche ward or in a prison, then these blogs can be looked back on to see what went wrong. That would make life a bit easier, right? It started all the way back in middle school, I think. For context, before middle school, I was very normal. I had lots of friends, talked ...

 I am a teenager. That means I have to slowly transition from being a child into being an adult. As impatient yet unexcited I am to become an adult, it really hasn't been sticking in my mind for more than a few seconds. Unfortunately, I still have to prepare for that moment, in which it is forced to stay in my brain for up to several hours. What's the best example of this? Driving. If you're an adult, driving is probably just a thing you do  whenever you need to go somewhere. For someone with an anxiety disorder and who has never drove more than a golf cart, it's a little bit of a different experience. Maybe you remember from when you were first learning to drive, it's a little scary. Last year, during the summer, I learned how to drive. Well, I learned the essentials on how to drive. It started with an online course where we had to spend 3 hours on an online chat learning about how to stop at a red light. After about 2 weeks, we took an exam. Despite what seemed li...

 If there's one thing I'm rather ashamed to admit about myself, it's that I can't handle myself well under confusion. If something just doesn't sit quite right in my head (or at all), I'll get extremely stressed, sometimes to the point of breaking down. Unfortunately, I have to face confusing situations often, but thankfully, most of them end in comprehension and no tears being shed. Of course, it's not like people don't get stressed under confusion, it's just the way of how I handle it that I'm embarrassed of. Any normal person would probably start getting fumed, or step back to think about something for a moment. I rarely do the latter. But alongside anger, immense confusion will usually end in me completely giving up and crying about it. Unfortunately, that's what happened yesterday. Twice. One a little more entitled than the other. In my last post, I mentioned how I went to the opticians to get my eyes checked. I'm unsure if I mention...

 I am a glasses wearer. Maybe that surprises you, maybe you already knew and it didn't surprise you. Regardless, that unfortunately means I have to go through an extra appointment every couple of years, known as the opticians.  Essentially, the opticians are similar to dentists or hair saloons, in that they treat one specific part of your body. In the case of the opticians, it's your eyes. More specifically, they try to allow partially blind people (like me) to see better. I'm nearsighted, meaning I can see things up close nice and clear, but things farther away are completely blurry. Blurry to the point where I couldn't read something 10 feet away from me.  Although this sounds bad, it's actually very common. My eyes are perfectly healthy, they just bend light in a different way. In the usual opticians appointment, they'll take quick pictures of your eyes, then test which lenses work to improve your vision, then finally allowing you to pick out a brand new pair...