I'm grateful to my terrific therapist, my wonderful husband, my relentlessly supportive friends, and I'm grateful to myself, for doing this difficult work.
I'm learning that reacting to my emotions doesn't actually get rid of them or spare me from that fear, it just adds a layer of confusion and shame.
Here's the gist: do not be an asshole to people who are already suffering.
I'm not trying to be a pessimist, I'm just trying to be prepared.
I've heard this saying a lot, and I really like the idea of it, but actually doing it...that's another story.
I feel like my brain is just constantly processing and coping and that's great, really, my life is so much better now than it was five or even just one year ago because of this, but the result is just constant exhaustion.
I'm a freezer. My brain has learned that fighting almost always makes the situation worse, and running betrays the panic I feel inside which could also make things worse, so I just freeze up.
How seriously are you supposed to take these kinds of thoughts when you know you don't really want to die, but at the same time, the idea of continuing to exist as your horrible self fills you with dread and rage?
I take a LOT of naps.
Anxiety is a hydra. It has many heads and trying to narrow it down to just one is a gross oversimplification that will only deter you from truly understanding/defeating it.