I really didn’t know what to write about this week. So I finally decided to write about the thing that is ever present in my life. Anxiety. Even writing the word makes me take a deep breath. I didn’t want to write about it for a number of different reasons, some I won’t say. I will say that I hate that this is a thing in my life because people who don’t have bad anxiety don’t understand and therefore, I feel like a crazy person. Like I’m faking it or something. Like I’m being dramatic. But I promise you, it’s real.
Then I get mad at myself for caring so much about what people think because I know this is a real thing and something I need to work on and pay attention to and then I get worked up about it. “Getting worked up” is something that happens a lot. I’d also say I can be high strung. Both of these stem from anxiety.
Anxiety is the worst because there’s nothing actually physically wrong with you. Yes, you can have a physical reaction, which I completely do, but it’s not from any medical issues (that I know of). It’s all in my fucking head. All the time.
Like I’m always thinking of what’s about to happen, and it’s always negative. Like if someone gives me a compliment, I think they’re being sarcastic. Or if I get a one-word text, the person must be mad at me. Or I have a missed phone call from work, I figure they’re calling me because I’m in trouble for something. Stupid shit like that.
I’ve realized recently, that my favorite pastime is day dreaming. I just love it. Jimmy Fallon is there a lot. Of course boys in general. I also play out these scenarios in my head. Chance encounters. Like, crazy scenarios that will never ever happen but I convince myself that they “could” happen. In my daydreams, I’m always really cool. Say just the right thing. I’m very witty and smart. OR I think of the worst possible scenario, and think, yes, that’s what would probably happen, in actuality. That IS going to happen.
While day dreaming can be fun, it’s definitely a dangerous thing. Because by just thinking of things that might possibly in some world happen, they always make me anxious.
Growing up, I always thought that “anxious” was a positive term. Nervous/excited. Because I felt it before I did something that gave me a rush, whether it was giving a presentation in class, playing in a big, important game, anything involving a boy I liked, etc. I now know that having this feeling the majority of the time, is very unhealthy.
Recently, I was sick. For like ten days. For about three days in a row, I did pretty much nothing. Stayed at my apartment, in bed, and tried to take care of myself. Then, I went back to work. And within my first hour of being there, I felt like I couldn’t catch my breath.
Whenever I don’t have anxiety, I don’t realize it. It’s only when it starts to happen and I realize, oh my God, I HAVEN’T been anxious the past three days, and now I am.
As far as a physical reaction, I mostly feel like I can’t catch my breath. Everything gets tight in my neck and shoulders. To compensate, I yawn sometimes, because it helps me take in a deep breath and somehow makes me feel better for that second. But it’s fucking annoying because anytime I yawn in public, I get shit for it. “Too early for that.” “Rough night?” “No yawning.” And when someone says something like that to me, it gets me even more worked up because I just want to yell in their face, please leave me the fuck alone, I’m trying to breathe.
But that would be rude. So I hold onto the tension. Or, sometimes I do snap at people, and then I feel bad for snapping because, well, I feel like a fucking crazy person. That this is happening at all.
So then people ask what’s wrong. And I try to figure out, why am I having anxiety? What IS wrong?
Let me just say, I am very happy at this point in my life. And the more anxiety I get, the more I try to remind myself of how great my life is. And how happy I am. Because really, I do feel very lucky to be where I am right now.
And now I feel anxiety. Because no, Lindsay, you’re not in a great place right now. You’re 30 and you live in a garage and work in a bar and live month-to-month, not saving a penny. You need to weigh this amount to make it as an actress or get a good guy or feel comfortable wearing a bathing suit in front of people. You drink too much. You make terrible decisions. You’re never REALLY going to make it as an actor or a writer.
I know these things are false, but they are always there, in the back of my mind.
I don’t really have a point with all this. I talk to Kelly on the phone almost every day and vent to her about all my dumb shit that I feel stupid saying to anyone else. I told her I didn’t want to write a post about this because my thoughts are so scattered and for the millionth time, I feel like a crazy person.
And here I am, doing just that. I still feel very scattered with my thoughts and feelings but it does feel good to get it on the page.