Sometimes I wonder if people know how much I think. I understand that everyone thinks, but I think that my thinking is different. It’s over consuming.
I become scared. I think that maybe this all there ever will be for me. Just me and my thoughts. I wish they would stop so I could breathe. I try to rationalize, but they always have a comeback. I try to tell them “this isn’t true,” but then they say “what if it is?” and I become convinced. So I have to reach out the person who the anxiety is connected to (sorry loved ones) to prove to my anxiety that it isn’t true. But then something isn’t said right, and I’m convinced my anxiety was right all along.
You see, there have been times in my past when I could let the anxiety go. That the thoughts didn’t consume and I was well. Then I learned my lesson. I learned that people always hurt me, and it hurts worse if I don’t see it coming. So I looked at the future and all the possible scenarios and chose the negative ones because then I’ll be okay. If I scan for the threats or even just make them up then at least, I’ll be prepared.
I have a lot of hurt on the inside from things that happened a long time ago. I apply that to my future. You see, logically I know it doesn’t make sense. And logically I know this doesn’t protect me. Then logically I also know, that this only hurts people I care about and me. Still, I look for it. The sliver of evidence that can prove my fear is right and then I jump. The smallest spoken word or a minor action. It may mean nothing, and honestly, I am probably overreacting. Then I can get mad, and you can tell me to leave. You can say that I pushed you to your limit. You can tell me how it’s my fault. Then it will be simple. I can predict it and have it come true. Things end. They always end. This way I can know it’s coming.
I think this is all I know. I tried to be “normal” before, and it has failed. I tried to be okay before and I still failed. It scares me this is what I believe now. It scares me to think that walking around confident and positive about life, makes me take a step back and say “woah. That’s not going to work Sylvia. You’re going to look like a fool when it all comes down.”
That’s no way to live, and I know it. Logically I can see it. I can’t just let it go, though. You see, part of me believes anxiety protects me. If I’m one foot out the door in my life, then I can always see something bad coming. Here’s to continuing trying to become better, talking about it therapy and trying to give people the benefit of the doubt, even if you fail, because it’s a process.