Anxious Anxiety

I haven’t written for a bit. I feel like my head is keeping in my thoughts and I’m unable to actually sit down and put down how I’m feeling. This blog has always been journal first and everything else second – the lack of structure and planning was here from the beginning – but I still try to adhere to a schedule of sorts, if only for myself. It’s good to sit down and rummage through your thoughts and put them down someplace neat and tidy.

My anxiety is getting worse. Whether it’s me thinking about how I’m going to eventually die and wondering if I’ve already done something to lead to the event – or it’s me looking back on things I have no control over and trying much too hard to forget about them. I always have my memories – people can change and hate me in the present, but the memories don’t change and stay with me. For better or worse.

My girlfriend has brought some friends over to the house and I sit around and make jokes every so often or make a comment when I have an opportunity, but they’re her friends, not mine, and it reminds me that I literally don’t have a single actual friend. My friends tend to be women, and usually they’re women that I’ve been in a relationship with – as in I used to either date them, or had some sort of fling with. Obviously you can’t keep those friends in an actual, proper relationship.
And not being in school hinders that too. I had a couple of male friends that I spent time with, but after graduating those friendships faded off, as they tend too.

Now I work in a job I hate, with people I don’t like and I suspect don’t like me very much, and I’m either there or at home, and I don’t keep up with anyone or spend time with anyone other than my significant other or my brother and sometimes that gets to me – even though I love both of their company, I yearn to spend time with someone that I feel isn’t required to spend time with me. A friend who is with me simply because they want my company, nothing more.

I yearn for a sense of stability – not in the sense that it usually means, I suppose. But in the sense that my life doesn’t constantly feel in flux. One day, I’m concerned about money. The next, we find ourselves well off. One day, I hate my job to the point of picking up bad habits and picking out silver hairs, the next I can tolerate it for what it is. I’m tired of being concerned about going back to school, or friendships, or my weight – I’m sick of my anxieties having anxieties to be anxious about.

I know who I want to be, and I’m making strides to get there. There’s just a riptide that pulls me back in whenever I find myself making my way out – and already, two months into the year, I find myself getting worse again.

I don’t write as much as I used to. Poetry, fiction, and on here. This is my first post of February, and likely my last. I don’t want to drag out my problems, and I don’t want to beat a dead horse. If I’m depressed, I am, and if I’m anxious, I am, and my mental illnesses aren’t going to go away no matter how many times I rant to a webpage that nobody reads just for the sake of catharsis. So, if I don’t find myself moving forward, I’m just simply not going to write. I won’t write the same blog posts over and over and over again – because I don’t want to think about it over and over again. Perhaps writing is cathartic but also, maybe it’s a little unhealthy too? Focusing in on these issues that I know I’m not helping yet I keep talking just to hear the sound of my own voice?

I don’t know.
I’ll write when I feel I have something to say, whether it’s personal or not. But I’m done moving in circles – tired of my circular anxiety.

To whoever reads this, I hope your month has gone swell. Talk to you next time.

– Brandon.

Advertisements

8 thoughts on “Anxious Anxiety

  1. (I apologize if this is a duplicate, but the previous comment I left isn’t showing up)
    I had the same problem when I was in my Twenties: I had grown apart from my male, childhood friends, and pretty much all my new friends were girls. I worked a job I -most of the time- hated, yet I seemed to work all the time; I often felt incredibly self-conscious, and insecure about my appearance, and at times I became completely paralyzed by irrational, yet raging, hypochondria.
    In general, it tends to be a lot more difficult for guys to make friends than girls; perhaps because girls tend to be more “chatty”, and open with their emotions with one another where guys are often reluctant to open up emotionally to other guys which can obstruct the process of cultivating friendships.
    Having a brother whom you have a friendship, and enjoy hanging out with is definitely something to be thankful for.
    As you progress through your Twenties, you will become more confident with whom you are, and you will be able to form casual friendships with other guys which will satisfy your need for additional friendships. I met my best friends when I was in my late Twenties, and we’ve been friends ever since. We may go a while without communicating, but all it takes is one of us to start a discussion via group text, and we pick-up right where we left off.
    Try not to let your anxiety control you, and make you feel scared, hopeless, or detached, and when you detect feeling of anxiety creeping in, immerse yourself in what brings you happiness (music, movies, vide games, poetry, art, etc.)
    And, if you find yourself needing an objective, tertiary friend to talk to, let me know…We’ve lived very similar lives, Brandon.
    Take Care

    • Hey, sorry for the late reply – I’ve tried to take a hiatus from writing for a bit as not to stay focused on my depression. I really appreciate your advice and insight. It means a lot. I’m glad to hear that things worked out for you in the end – I’m not surprised our lives have some parallels, and it gives me a bit of a hope that this really is all temporary. Hope you’re doing well, Daniel. Thanks again for your input.

      • Hey, quick question, and if it’s too personal I understand: What do you believe is the primary source of your depression?

      • No, it’s all good. It stems from a lot of things. It just runs naturally in my family, first off. My mother, as I’m sure you know, has clinical depression. My family life wasn’t too great growing up, I never really fit in or had any friends in school, I’ve grown up trying to twist myself into something that would make people like me and it never worked, so I’m left without a solid personal identity for myself… I mean, my life as it stands today isn’t terrible. People have it a lot worse. But you take innate, natural depression and just tie it up with a lousy childhood and a lack of friends and it really just sort of ferments into something that feels a lot worse than it probably should.

    • You have done an amazing, and inspirational job of overcoming the obstacles, and family turmoil to become a very well-adjusted, compassionate, artistic, emotionally, and academically intelligent young man.
      Your success in conquering the adversity, trials, and tribulations you’ve faced is not just commendable, but demanding of respect; for many people would have used that adversity as an excuse to justify a lifetime of poor judgement, and decision making.
      And, yes, I know your mother… She endured many tragedies, and betrayals in her life which didn’t help her mental health, and I know I didn’t make things any better; I was young, and immature..Jason offered the security, stability -both emotionally & financially, and reliability I was completely incapable of providing at that time…. If you ever want to talk, let me know…

      • I appreciate all the kind words. I’m trying to work through everything and take my time to make everything better at the end of it all.
        And if you have any time and wouldn’t mind, I’d actually really like to hear your side of everything. I grew up hearing a single story without ever knowing all of the details so if you ever have a chance, it would be great to talk.

  2. I read some of this page on a not so spectacular day, and it helped. It inspired me to put thoughts in writing for the first time in a long time, and if it doesn’t come off entirely self centered I was hoping to share a bit in hopes of receiving some input. It’s written on a personal level and none of it necessarily pertains to you, but I was hoping you might understand it. So, anyway, here it is: I thought, a second ago, about how I need to dowse the fire to ensure the room won’t fill with smoke. Then I thought, is it not the same with my thought process? I worry my frail emotional being to the point of agony, but what good will this do me? How do I benefit from this? The simple answer is clear, I don’t. Though, the stem of my anxiety seems validated, so not to acknowledge it would be ignorant, wouldn’t it? If you know something is true, but are told otherwise, it is unwise to ignore the facts in search of acceptance. So why, now, do I wish I could live in blissful ignorance away from what I know is true? Why is rationality spawning this unreasonably irrational emotional response?
    It is easy to ignore the truth until the festering pit you try to bury it in boils over. At some point in the attempt to convince yourself otherwise, the true morphs beyond how you originally saw it. It changes to a dark secret that somehow becomes your burden rather than continuing to belong to whomever should be held responsible. Is it better to convince myself of what I’m told? I struggle with the childlike decision of whether to let it be or pick at the scab until it scars.
    I try to heal, to continue my story, but I can’t get past this point in the development. The plot holes keep me up at night. They mock me in every fresh wound of insecurity. Stir up questions in every moment of peace or pride.
    I want the truth. I’ve always been a logical person, basing decisions on reason and fairness. I want to know where my mind stands when there’s nothing to hide, and how my heart acts in accordance.

    • Sorry for replying late, WordPress marked this comment as spam for some reason. I would never mind seeing the writing of someone else – I appreciate seeing other points of view and how other people see themselves and the world from their own perspective. And you make a lot of sense – I really admire the way you describe your anxiety. The way you describe your thought process and the metaphors you use really make it easier to understand what you’re going through. And I agree with you entirely – it’s a catch 22. Letting it be or picking at the wound both have their pros and cons, both in the long term and short term. It makes you question who you are, in a sense. Leaves you wondering which road you’re walking when there are no signs for miles and it just stretches on and on and on. Anxiety is such a horrible beast because it makes you question what’s real and what’s not, even when the answers are blatant and obvious – because to someone with anxiety, rationality doesn’t quite matter. You can be a logical person and still anxiety will twist your very definition of what makes sense and what doesn’t, because ‘what if?’, and it leaves you unable to ever clarify or see things clearly so you can move forward and tackle the next things. It just builds and builds.
      I’m not sure if anything I said makes sense. I tend to ramble – while your thoughts were very well organized and understandable. Your writing is rather excellent – and putting your thoughts in writing helps tremendously. Who understands you better than you? At least getting it in writing will make things a little clearer for yourself – helps stop the tide of anxiety from rising and drowning you.
      Hope you’re doing well and things get better.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s