Since first starting this blog I’ve spoken a lot about my depression, my mood swings and my personality disorder, but I haven’t really touched on my most recognizable characteristic.
I am extremely, very, profoundly anxious.
When I tell people I have generalized anxiety disorder I usually get a puzzled look. “Aren’t we all generally anxious?”. Sure, yeah, of course. I can’t imagine though that the world would function properly if every one was as anxious as me. In fact, it’s amazing I haven’t demolished civilization all on my own with the amount of neuroticism I posses. See, I have a constant sense of foreboding. I don’t think it’s possible for me to name a situation or a concept that hasn’t made me anxious. If I momentarily can’t think of anything that I’m worried about, well gosh damn it that makes me anxious. I convince myself that there is absolute doom approaching and I’m just forgetting about it. You’re probably thinking I’m being melodramatic, no one can be anxious about everything ever. Well, after careful thinking I’ve finally been able to come up with an example that expresses how very anxious I am.
You know how some restaurants offer you the choice of soup or salad with your entree? Simple choice, right? Shouldn’t affect your life in anyway, correct? When I know I am going to a restaurant that offers me this straightforward choice (you see, I can’t go out to eat before carefully studying the menu a plethora of times in order to avoid the anxiety provoking notion that I won’t be ready with a choice when the waiter asks) I will agonize over the decision for days. I once spent an entire week constantly making pros and cons lists of choosing soup or salad. To this day I am still haunted by the anxiety that I made the wrong choice.
Yes, I know..it’s a fucking soup or a fucking salad. My brain doesn’t see it that way though. My friends, this is what it’s like for me having generalized anxiety disorder.