Living With Anxiety

Anxiety is real and it takes many shapes. People wear it differently if they wear it at all. I’ve always imagined what it would be like to be type B, easy going and carefree. I have a friend who fits the mold of what it’s like to not have anxiety and I’ve always envied her for her ability to take what comes at her and go with the flow. I’m not that kind of person. I could spend my whole life trying to be different or trying to hide who I am, but what’s the point? Really, what would be the point of doing all of that extra work when in the end it would just cause me more anxiety? It just seems so counter productive really. I’ve been “inspired” to write about this because lately my anxiety levels have been high and have gotten to the point where they’re disrupting my day-to-day.

So here goes:

Anxiety for me is nail biting. Ever look at me and catch me with my fingers in my mouth? Chances are high that if you know me you have. I’ve always been a nail biter. I can’t even remember a time in my life where the skin on my fingers had been untouched by my stupid teeth (with the exception of the one year I was dating my ex and the 20 days I’ve spent in Haiti over the last year). I don’t know why I can’t break the habit. All I know is that the amount of time I spend biting my nails increases proportionally with how anxious I am. It’s kind of cool (sort of cool) that you can tell exactly how anxious I am based on the condition of my fingers.

Anxiety for me is social awkwardness. I’m an extrovert. Duh. If you know me you’d know it, and if you read my blog you’d know it because heck, I just blogged about it! But even if you don’t know me it wouldn’t take long to figure it out. All of this to say, it’s weird that someone as extroverted as me has so much social anxiety. You’d think my need to be with people 24/7 would alleviate the anxiety that comes from being with people. But it doesn’t. I was recently going out to dinner with a group of friends from class. What I didn’t know was that some of their other friends were coming. As soon as I found out I started to panic. I wasn’t going to be able to hold myself together once these strangers showed up. The funny thing is, I’m good with people. I’m really good with people. But somehow I forget that in the moments leading up to a social encounter. So comes the anxiety.

Anxiety for me is a tick. Whenever I’m anxious I have a tick. A tick isn’t the same as a twitch. A twitch is defined as an involuntary movement. A tick is voluntary. Okay, so you’re probably thinking if it’s voluntary why not just stop doing it. If only it were that easy. Whenever I’m feeling anxious (some recurring times are when I’m driving, when I’m taking a test, and when I’m writing a paper or doing something close to a deadline) I do this thing with my hand, mainly my right but sometimes my left, where I shake it, and then spread my fingers out like an alien. I also twitch my neck, shoulders and cheek. My cheek is kind of like doing a half smile, my neck is like I’m doing some weird turtle-coming-out-of-its-shell movement, and my shoulder looks like I’m lifting up my elbow to air out my armpit. I honestly don’t know how else to describe it. But whenever I feel more anxious than not, I tick.

Anxiety for me is sleep deprivation. When I’m feeling anxious I cannot fall asleep, or apparently stay asleep. My whole life I’ve struggled falling asleep. I’ve never been able to just get into bed, close my eyes, and fall asleep. No matter what time it is, no matter how old I was, I’d get into bed, lay there for a few hours, and finally, somehow, fall asleep. I’ve never really struggled staying asleep once I’ve gotten to sleep until recently. The past few nights I’ve woken up almost every hour, unable to reach a state of deep sleep and constantly tossing and turning once I’ve finally gotten to sleep in the first place. I can’t understand why it happens, it just does. Sleeping for me isn’t always a refuge and escape, sometimes it’s more troublesome than the day itself.

Anxiety for me is a lot of things, probably more than I’ve written about here. But I am not my anxiety. Yes, it’s a condition I’ll always live with and wrestle with, but like I said, it comes in all ways for all different people, and in actuality I could have it a lot worse than I do. But still, it’s never fun to feel so isolated and worrisome all the time. I know in Christ I have no reason to worry (Matthew 6:27) but even so, I do. I worry, and I have anxiety because of it. I bite my fingers, I’m socially awkward at times, I have a tick, and I lose sleep, but it’s who I am and I’m not in the business of trying to change that.

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