Because Of My Anxiety, I Always Feel Uncomfortable

Uncomfortable girl with anxiety
God & Man

I never feel relaxed. I never feel safe. I am always on the edge of my seat, worrying about what will happen next. I am always waiting for whatever ounce of happiness that I have to be yanked away from me. For the charade of calmness to come to an end.

I am scared to send the first text because if the person takes too long to answer me, I will feel like our entire friendship is a lie, like no one wants me around. I am scared to speak to strangers in shops and street corners because I am worried about being judged, I am worried that they will see exactly who I am and realize it isn’t anyone good.

I am scared to raise my hand in class. Scared to send emails to my bosses. Scared to dance at parties. Scared to leave my house to socialize. Scared to exist.

And I am scared of bigger things. I am scared of death. I am scared of walking through darkened city streets and riding packed subway cars and merging onto busy highways because of the horror splattered across news tickers. Because I am worried about becoming another statistic.

I am even scared when I am inside of my own home, when I am around the people who are supposed to make me feel at ease, like there is nothing to worry about. I can’t trust anyone. I can only trust myself.

But at the same time, I can’t even trust myself. I can’t trust my memories because I will replay a conversation in my mind again and again until I realize that the other person looked at me wrong, that they spoke sarcastically, that they seemed annoyed.

When that doubt creeps inside, I don’t know whether I am being a realist or being ridiculous. Whether I am overreacting or finally seeing things the way they were meant to be seen.

Fear follows me everywhere and my insecurities tag alone, too.

I am always uncomfortable, no matter the situation. During long silences, I freak out, hoping the other person isn’t bored of me. And when they are speaking, instead of fully paying attention to their words, I pay attention to whether I’m making too much eye contact with them or not enough. Either that or I fumble through my brain, trying to come up with the response I am going to give them once they stop talking.

I am only half listening. I am only half there. I am only half existing at any given time.

I am always uncomfortable, even when I am alone, because that is when I have the most time to think. And thinking is the worst thing for me. My brain is my worst enemy. It convinces me that I am unattractive. Unlovable. Unbearable. It makes me doubt whether I deserve all of the good things in my life — and convinces me I deserve all the bad things.

I am always uncomfortable. It has always been that way and I am worried that is never going to change. TC mark

The truth is that you can be struggling and still be loved.

You don’t have to solve your whole life tonight. You just have to show up and try. Focus on the most immediate thing in front of you. You’ll figure out the rest along the way.

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