For months now, I have felt more like an outsider than I ever have. I feel like I am constantly crawling towards some semblance of normalcy, but I never reach it.
I had a whirlwind summer falling in love with the most amazing girl in the world. Then school happened, and everything got harder. The stresses of school were more than I could originally bear in my first year. Eventually, all my efforts to go out trailed off.
My worries got bigger and harder to face. They consumed me.
I could never understand why. Now I do.
I’m in the midst of being diagnosed with severe anxiety. The depression I’m experiencing is subsequent to it, or so I’m told.
Anxiety has ruined my life. I have virtually no friends. My girlfriend is quickly losing her patience with me. I have overwhelmed my mom more than I have ever wished to. Unless I need to go out, I stay inside to try and subdue the worries in my head.
It is a very unhappy lifestyle.
I don’t know where the anxiety came from. I assume it is in part a culmination of six years worth of working to compensate for all my other shortcomings, including being bullied and trying to accept my sexuality before I was ready to face it.
A lot of people don’t understand anxiety. If you have ever had extreme nervousness and worry before a big test or date, you can probably get an idea of how it feels. The only difference for me is that I experience those feelings on an almost constant basis; their extremities fluctuate depending on the situations I am in.
For me, social settings trigger the anxiety. That’s why I run away after class is over and decline all the invitations (albeit, there are few) I get on Facebook. I’m told avoidance and retreat are the hallmarks of anxiety. It upsets me that my first instinct is to run or flee difficult situations.
In turn, I’ve become very lonely, spending limited amounts of time with people and excess amounts of time alone with my iPhone. Naturally, I’ve also begun to develop depression, which has manifest into late-night subway rides home, choking back tears and biting the insides of my cheeks next to complete strangers.
I’m also in the midst of trying to diagnose a stomach issue I’ve been dealing with for years. Whether or not it is related to my anxiety remains unknown for now.
I guess the point of this post is to apologize. If I’ve ever been rude to you, turned you down, brushed you off or made you feel like less than you deserve, I am sorry. No illness is an excuse for rudeness, but I hope you can try to empathize with me.
I also apologize for the lack of posts on here. Trying to get through this means there’s less time for me to write good, meaningful posts, ones I’m proud to publish. In the meantime, I’ve been working on some personal essays that I’m sure I’ll eventually put out. Until then, your patience is appreciated.