I have three main categories on my blog: Faith, Anxiety, and Life in General. At different points in my blog, I have written significantly about different categories. For example, a lot of my early posts revolve around Christianity and singleness. A while later, I focus on dating and my emetophobia. Lately, if you’ve noticed, I have written almost exclusively about anxiety.
Tonight, I wanted to write a different post. I wanted to write something and categorize it as “Life in General” because I felt like I have been focusing too much on my anxiety the last few months.
Except, the problem is…my “life in general” is anxiety.
I can’t write about my life without writing about anxiety.
It is consuming. It is constant. Even when I have ‘good days,’ they are just good days despite my anxiety.
Today, my husband was talking about the retreat he will be taking our church’s youth group on in a few weeks from now. I literally could not even imagine what it must feel like to NOT be anxious when thinking about a weekend away.
To feel excited about a retreat? I don’t know what that feels like.
I don’t know what it feels like to go on a vacation without having at least one crippling panic attack. To eat out at a restaurant without second-guessing every single bite. To get in a car and not have a mini-existential crisis, realizing my life could end at any moment at the hands of another driver.
I honestly don’t know what it feels like to be okay.
I’ve spoken to other people who developed anxiety later in life. They talk about the times when they were ‘normal.’ When they were happy. When they had never felt the absolute horror of a panic attack.
I don’t have that point of reference. I have always been this way.
And honestly, I’m tired of it. I’m tired that my ‘life in general’ feels like this.
I’m sorry for such a…hopeless? post but I am feeling pretty fed up lately.
Twenty-five years is a long time to be this way.