Separating Myself From My Anxiety

My anxiety is a constant presence in my life. I am learning not to let it control me anymore, but I don’t expect it to ever fade away entirely. It’s been challenging to determine where my anxiety ends, and my true self begins. Initially, any of my traits that seemed to differ from those of others or had the potential to be perceived as undesirable, I saw as defects, as faults resulting from anxiety. I found myself constantly apologizing for my gut reactions or my discomfort. I blamed them on my issues, they were something I vowed to work on. It is becoming clear to me now that this way of thinking is perpetuating my pattern. I am, yet again, trying to achieve perfection; the unattainable. It’s time that I become comfortable with the fact that I’m human. I will never be perfect, nor should I strive to be. Trying to please people is a perpetual means of self destruction. Throughout my life, I have put a lot of effort towards keeping others happy, trying to keep the peace. That’s a heavy burden to bear. I have put myself in countless uncomfortable situations as a means of preventing myself from appearing selfish or crazy in the eyes of others or as a way of ensuring they don’t feel hurt or offended. For reasons I can’t explain, I don’t like people in my kitchen. It makes me uneasy. I don’t always want to be the host; sometimes it’s hard for me to let my guard down because I feel responsible for my guests. I hate piles and clutter. I’m not spontaneous, I’d rather have a plan. Most nights, I’d rather stay in with a few good friends and play board games then get all dressed up and hang out in a big crowd. (If I’m being totally honest, many nights, I really just want to lie on the couch and watch Netflix with my husband and my dog). I don’t want a gym buddy or a “fun” exercise class, my workout time is my me time. I have zero desire to travel the world, as I have already spent a large portion of my life living out of a bag. Are these anxiety-driven defects, or are they simply traits of who I am?

Over the past couple of years, I have read many statements by many experts in the vast world of Mental Health that essentially say that Comparison is the greatest rival of Happiness. This made perfect sense to me right away. It seemed straightforward. What I didn’t realize initially is that we are constantly comparing ourselves to others. There are the obvious avenues of comparison; social media being one of the most prominent (and most frightening). We bombard ourselves with everyone’s highlight reels and fall for the illusion that these posts are accurate representations of the individuals’ real lives. It is easy to see how this would have a negative impact on our well-being. But then there are the more inconspicuous means of comparison. I realized that I had been measuring my self-worth based on what I had accomplished in a day or how many social events I attended over a weekend. I didn’t realize this was happening until I really started to explore potential means of comparison that may be present in my life. One major one was the usual Monday morning discussion with co-workers; how was your weekend? What did you get up to? If I spent the weekend doing laundry and watching movies and a co-worker told me they went on a two-day cycling trip with a group of friends, I would become overwhelmed with guilt and shame. I was stuck in this pattern of just wanting to spend the weekend at home relaxing, but instead I would pack my weekends with events, so I felt accomplished. So that I had something to show for my time, something to report. At least if my weekend was busy, I would have a reason to be tired during the week. If my weekend was relaxing and uneventful, I would be ashamed of my work week fatigue. I had two full days to recharge, I shouldn’t be tired, right? I have found that I was also measuring myself against friends or colleagues that were pursuing further education or taking on projects on top of their full-time jobs. In my eyes, they were all bettering themselves while I was remaining stagnant. I should be more ambitious; I should take on more. The thing is, I don’t have the energy. I’m barely coping with my current schedule and responsibilities; the idea of taking on more is unfathomable. I feel like I spent so many years spreading myself thin in order to accomplish various goals that I have used up all my reserves. I have nothing left. Does that make me weak? Am I less than?

It often appears that so many other women are doing it all. I see all these women raising children, working full time, baking, renovating their homes, harvesting vegetables from the gardens they planted themselves in their spare time and still managing to have a social life. And here I am with no kids, working four days a week and struggling. Why can’t I keep up? Is my anxiety holding me back? If I wasn’t anxious, would I have the capacity to maintain a fruitful garden or bake for my family and friends? It has taken me a long time, but now I see that the answer is no. I don’t bake because I hate baking. I don’t have a garden because I had been living in an apartment for six years with no outdoor space. Oh, and also, I have no interest in gardening. What I have realized is that my priorities just differ from those of these women. It’s that simple. While they spend their time baking or caring for their kids, I devote a lot of my time to exercising, writing, working on my mental health and maintaining important relationships. As a result, I’m in great physical shape, I have come a long way in learning to manage my anxiety and I have many meaningful relationships. I must actively remind myself that these are also accomplishments, things to be proud of. Becoming more mindful, and, in turn, more respectful, of my priorities helps me to put things in perspective and is something I continue to work on.

A lot can be said for shifting priorities. It makes sense that priorities change; we all have to adapt to our ever-evolving lives. Understanding the inevitability of this and accepting it are two very different things. Most of my adult life was spent focusing on obtaining, and then advancing, my career and making money. These were the means by which I measured success. So, when I found myself pulling away from career opportunities, when I felt that my heart was no longer in it, it was pretty unnerving. I was doing well at work, but I had nothing left for the important people in my life, or even for myself. I was happy with my job and I was good at it, but because the work itself was not what I am most passionate about, I had a hard time allowing myself to just enjoy it. It felt like I was settling. Like I was becoming complacent or lazy. Like I had lost my drive. Shouldn’t I want more? I blamed anxiety for holding me back, and that made me feel weak because I couldn’t overcome it. But over the years, I started to question things. At what point do the sacrifices outweigh the reward? Is an impressive resume and a growing savings account worth feeling ill and worn out all the time? The more work I did on managing my anxiety, the clearer it became that it wasn’t my anxiety driving my decisions, it was my evolving priorities. Feeling healthy and well rested became more important to me than earning money. Being able to nurture and enjoy my relationships started to mean far more to me than advancing my professional skills. It took me a long time to recognize this and even longer to be okay with it.

As I continue to work on myself, I will remain open minded, explore the root of my less desirable traits and try to be the best version of myself. If I handle a situation poorly or if my actions hurt someone, I will apologize, and it will be sincere. But I will no longer apologize for being me. If these traits are, in fact, part of my true self, I will learn to accept them and own them. I am not obligated to justify them to anyone. Perhaps I will find a way to be less affected by these things, but I will not be ashamed of them. It is unreasonable to expect everyone to be comfortable with, or to enjoy, all the same things. Others may not understand my feelings, but if they want to be in my life, they will have to respect them. I deserve that courtesy. If I constantly have to hide my true self for someone to respect me, do I really want or need their respect?