Book of Shiteu the 2nd

Peek into My World #3

Forewarning: I did not proofread this because writing it made me feel panicked, and reading it will only intensify this feeling.  Totally thought writing out my feelings would make me feel better, but that didn't work out the way I planned.  Still, I hope this will be enlightening or maybe it'll give some of you that "I'm not alone" moment, or it'll just give you a better perspective of, well, me and how this small part of my life works.

Anxiety... it's a bitch,

but there's a pretty big difference between being really anxious or nervous and having an Anxiety disorder... a huge difference, actually.

I didn't really realize that until today.  Like I knew it, but I haven't really...  I've never felt that different because of anxiety. I figured everyone gets really nervous about large groups of people and classrooms and the mall and sitting in public and so on and so forth.  Sure it's stopped me from going to school before and it's made it impossible for me to walk into a gymnasium full of people, but it's never truly interfered with my life.

Until now.

Why did my anxiety disorders decide to show their ass recently? I wish I knew.  Maybe I've just never really noticed them, or maybe I've felt too drugged to care.  But now... fuck.

It's not just feeling super duper nervous over simple stuff.  No.  It's more like feeling such an overwhelming sense of panic where my muscles stiffen to a point where I cannot move, I feel like I'm choking and can't breathe, my bpm speeds up to a point where my chest area actually hurts, and my mind is overridden with rapid panicky thoughts.

Facing whatever the cause for the anxiety is literally impossible.  If someone were to force me into, let's say, a classroom when I'm 5 minutes, I'd turn around and run out.  What if they closed the door?  I would imgine that I would burst into tears and curl up into a ball until I magically disappear or pass out.  I'd probably pass out bc asthma tbvh.

People want to say that I'm just antisocial.  I am not antisocial.  It's just stupid Social Anxiety Disorder.  OH LOOK AT THAT!  IT FUCKING SPELLS "SAD."  I'M--

I'm frustrated with my anxiety disorder right now.  It's fucking with my life.  Truly.  I recently started college, right?  Wanna guess who froze at the entrance of their first class?  I was counted absent for my first class.  On my third day of having that class, I was counted absent again bc I couldn't make myself walk in late.  But, hey, I found a way to avoid that problem.  Be extra-early.  I still pause for a solid 60 seconds before I can enter that classroom, though...

Simple right?  So the rest of my days should go fairly smooth-- I wish.

My dumb ass teachers-- No wait, I'm not mad.  It's their job.  They make us all interact in class.  I think that they do this because everyone sucks at irl communication skills due to cell phones, therefore they do things like group discussions and doing stuff in pairs.  And it probably does help a lot of people, which is fantastic.  Good for them!  Not me.

Today in Psychology, during the last 20 minutes of class, my professor asked if we'd rather discuss the topic in small groups, or move on to another slide.  I wanted to object to the discussion idea so bad.  I begged myself to let me speak up, but I couldn't.  She ended up giving us 20 minutes to discuss.  I sit in the very front of the auditorium, so if I don't want to talk to people, all I have to do is not look behind me.  I spent 15 minutes trying to make my legs comfortable while I nervously sketched lines on my notes.  I left class 5 minutes early.

Panic sets in when my English Composition teacher says to pick a partner.  I get sweaty and my heart experiences palpitations and my throat tightens and super glue suddenly appears between my pants and my seat, making me unable to move.  I'm grateful for my ability to hide the fear I feel (for the most part) and for being able to smile and look approachable regardless of how I'm feeling, because I don't have to move.  People come to me and it's okay.  It's temporary.  Everyone is there to pass the class, so everyone is putting on their happy face because being gloomy will get you singled out in that class.  I'm not even joking.  (Yet I like my teacher???)

Guess who skipped English Composition today?  I truly believe that I would not have been able to handle any more social situations today.  I skipped math, too, simply because it's the class that follows Comp.

But is that it?  Is it just class and interacting that gives me anxiety attacks?  Not even.

Sitting.

Sitting.

Simply sitting down is one of the worst fears I think I've ever experienced.  I'd rather get stung by a hornet than sit down on campus.  There are seats and tables and benches and couches all over campus where every sits to scroll through their phone or do schoolwork on their laptops or anything they want, really.  These seats are open to anyone and everyone, yet I can't get myself to sit and it's the most frustrating fear, I think, I've ever been faced with.

On my first day of school, I had my mom, so sitting was okay.  I can sit with my mommy and be okay.  She makes me feel safe.  But on my third day, I didn't have my mommy to hold my hand anymore (which is fine bc I need to grow up, for real).  I have two hours between my first 3 classes.

I spent an hour pacing in front of the building I needed to go in to get my Student ID before finally giving up.  Then, I went to the other sit of campus and sat in the freezing cold for an hour, watching geese.  I called my mom, like I always do between classes, to tell her I was struggling.  My body had begun to ready itself for hypothermia by the time she was able to come get me.  I skipped Psyc that day.

I've spent two hours walk-dancing in the cold with a 10-ton bag on my shoulder because I couldn't make myself go inside and sit the fuck down.  I couldn't even get myself to sit down outside.  There's only been 2 days where I could sit the fuck down, and both times were in the same cold ass place.  Both times my mom came to the rescue.

Today, I called my mom and said the three words that scream mental emergency: "I'm not okay."

Because I'm not.  I'm getting there, but I'm not fucking okay even though I'm trying really hard to be.  I wish I could write some sort of happy ending to this, but there isn't one.  At least, there's not one yet. ["Let's always be hopeful." #JHOPE2k16]  Even if I never find a way around my stupid anxiety disorder, I'll push through and face it as best I can with a forced smile on my face, just like Hobi forces his when he's faced with rejection.