So you've got that being "gifted" has been wrapped up in my identity since elementary school, right? And that, deep in my subconscious, I am always thinking about being the best, because I was taught that was the most important thing? Well, anyways, it apparently is a lot more deep rooted in my conscious mind that I thought.
I am anxiety ridden. Some of it is caused by stress about things I can't control, but most of it just seems to happen for no reason. Many times I can fret about things that have no chance of happening. I have honestly fallen asleep worrying about what would I'd actually do in the midst of a zombie apocalypse. (Answer: lawn equipment and acid-filled water guns.)
One new development in my anxiety is fairly recent. In the past few months, I have actually had physical anxiety reactions to being asked questions when I'm not sure of the answer.
Knowing the answer has always just been something that defines me. Not only do I seem to have academic answers, but my friends always come to me for advice. Even relationship advice, which was funny since it took me seventeen years to go on a date.
Anyways, it wasn't until college until I realized I had a pretty huge fear of not knowing the answer. But it wasn't just that. It was that I was scared of being judged about not knowing. I have always been confident in my knowledge. But when I got to college and suddenly it wasn't there when I needed it, I didn't know what to do.
The first time I had a reaction to it was last October. I was sitting at a presentation about drugs held in my dorm building featuring a campus policeman and a professor of pharmacology. Somebody asked a question and I thought I knew the answer so I answered. And I felt confident that I was right until I realized the professor was watching me. And I had a tiny little freak out.
I started stumbling over my words, which, if you know me, never happens. But it did. I sort of stopped mid-sentence, my voice fading until nothing came out. I had small, frantic gestures to the professor to correct me. He laughed a bit and finished the answer, but it didn't matter. My ears burned and I couldn't make eye contact (another thing that I never have trouble with).
A few weeks later, it happened again. This time, it was in Taekwondo class. My instructor asked why we start certain kicks from back stance. Again, I started off confident and ended up shaking my head and breathing hard. But this time was slightly different. It wasn't just that he was watching and that I knew he knew the answer. It was that he wasn't giving me any kind of sign that I was even on the right track.
This is another thing I haven't quite gotten control over, but I do know that it has made the little voice in my head shut up a bit. Things like worrying about body image ( which I don't do much of anyway), or what people think of me when they don't know me stopped bothering as much. But they haven't stopped all together. My anxiety still sits in my head and whispers things into my ear when I try to fall asleep.
But there's another voice in my head that helps me stop the stupid one. It's called "My Wise Woman".
Some might call it my "conscious" or "the Holy Spirit", but my mom calls it the Wise Woman, so I call it that. It's the little voice that reminds me what the right thing to do, say, think, etc., is. I imagine a very strong super heroine who has one foot on the chest of a criminal, bruised and bleeding on the floor.
Unfortunately, sometime the criminal gets up and runs around. It takes a while for the Wise Woman to catch him again, and in that time, he runs amok, spouting lies. But she catches him. I just hope that someday, she might lock him up for good.
MORAL OF THE STORY: anxiety sucks, and I am still trying to figure out how to combat it.
No comments:
Post a Comment