“Notice how you’re always jumping from one issue to the next?”
She was right. G was pointing out how I always have something going on. I’m never “just ok”. I had just read her a portion of my diary detailing how I think I have an addictive personality and how that scares me, especially considering I’m going to be a physician and I’ll be in close proximity to drugs of all kind. I always have to have something wrong, some kind of drama in my head.
In addition to talking to her about my addiction fears, I spent a great deal of time today discussing my anxiety issues. Yesterday I went to a show at one of the city’s theaters with my parents and MM, and my anxiety was on high. It had been a while since it had gotten that bad.
I told her how I’m always thinking people are looking at me. All. The. Time. How I think they’re making fun of me, of the way I look, act, and walk. How I feel constantly in the spotlight, even during the show while the theater lights were off. How no place is safe, not even home, since I think people are looking at me through the windows. I mentioned a long list of situations that are anxiety-provoking for me, all of which involve some interaction with the outside world (public places), be it walking around the city, driving, sitting in my room with open windows, going to the mall….especially going to the mall.
“Well, why do you always think people are thinking bad things about you? Why can’t they be thinking you look good, or your haircut is nice?”
Good point. I guess that’s a good way of challenging the thoughts. But that’s the people who are actually looking at me….we still have to deal with my mind thinking literally everyone is looking at me.
The annoying thing is, I know none of that is true. I know it’s impossible and ridiculous of me to think that everyone is looking at me or thinking of me. But that’s how anxiety works….that’s how mental illness works. It’s not rational at all.
I mentioned how lately I feel like I’m not challenging my obsessive thoughts, which include the anxiety-related thoughts. How I feel like I’m not trying hard enough to beat this mental illness thing. How I’ve gotten lazy and I’ve fallen back into my comfort zone….yet again. She agreed. Ouch.
She mentioned how I have to challenge the thoughts, or else I’m not going to get better. She said if I don’t challenge the thoughts then I’ll always be stuck in an endless cycle of therapy and back again, and it’ll just become something familiar to me, much like a crutch. To which I thought, Do I want to get better?, for the one millionth time in my life (but that’s a whole other post).
When the session ended, I told her how I feel like I always bring something new to our sessions, some “new” issue. I told her I feel like I get more and more complicated after each appointment, how my bag of issues is infinite. It used to be anorexia (and it still is, though to a lesser degree), now it’s anxiety and fears of possible addiction in the future. Always jumping from one issue to the next. The Borderline in me looking to self-destruct.
“That’s because you’ve fallen into your comfort zone.”
But she’s right. Damn it, she’s right.