CRIPES.
So it turns out that someone who's something of a hypochondriac like me, and who is still rebounding from an icky bout of anxiety like me, should ABSOLUTELY NOT start researching the potential for much more serious mental diseases, which do exist in my extended family. When I'm really stressed out, ignorance is bliss... but I got on this thought train that I should face my fears to put them to rest. The problem with this is that when anxiety has a stake in me (which, prior to this fall, hasn't happened since early college, and back then it was much worse), I'm not the greatest at being rational... instead I end up taking too many possibilities in and get lots in the "What ifs". And while being educated can be helpful, I need to make sure I have the balls to accept what I'm looking up before I do it.
Luckily, I have the benefit of hindsight now. When I was in high school I became terrified that I was gay... this in itself didn't scare me, but my inability to tell for sure did. Later the main issues were whether I wanted to stay with my first boyfriend who cheated on me, and whether I wanted to have children someday. Usually I got to feeling like I had to make this BIG DECISION, right then. Looking back on it when I'm feeling fine always makes it seem somewhat ridiculous, because I'm generally more easygoing and figure that, however things work out, I'll probably be satisfied with my life. Maybe there's an element of control freak in me that uses anxiety as a means to surface once in a while, but I can't take it too seriously. These questions don't need to be answered.
Anyway. I'm still a little scared of my anxiety, but I know that's pretty much how it works, and lots of people have to deal with it. What is almost certain to happen is that I'm still going to worry some about the potential for mental disease, but each day I'll wake up without it, and then suddenly I'll be 35 and the threat will have passed and then I'll be worrying about breast cancer or who knows what else. Blah. Rationally, there's no point in worrying. Cross bridges when you come to them... I used to say that all the time.
Btw, if anyone reading this has info about serious mental problems that might be worrisome to me, please keep it to yourself. I hate to be such a pansy but I'm in the process of cheering the fuck up and will deal with that shit later.
But things are looking up. Proof: here's an adorable kitty.
Luckily, I have the benefit of hindsight now. When I was in high school I became terrified that I was gay... this in itself didn't scare me, but my inability to tell for sure did. Later the main issues were whether I wanted to stay with my first boyfriend who cheated on me, and whether I wanted to have children someday. Usually I got to feeling like I had to make this BIG DECISION, right then. Looking back on it when I'm feeling fine always makes it seem somewhat ridiculous, because I'm generally more easygoing and figure that, however things work out, I'll probably be satisfied with my life. Maybe there's an element of control freak in me that uses anxiety as a means to surface once in a while, but I can't take it too seriously. These questions don't need to be answered.
Anyway. I'm still a little scared of my anxiety, but I know that's pretty much how it works, and lots of people have to deal with it. What is almost certain to happen is that I'm still going to worry some about the potential for mental disease, but each day I'll wake up without it, and then suddenly I'll be 35 and the threat will have passed and then I'll be worrying about breast cancer or who knows what else. Blah. Rationally, there's no point in worrying. Cross bridges when you come to them... I used to say that all the time.
Btw, if anyone reading this has info about serious mental problems that might be worrisome to me, please keep it to yourself. I hate to be such a pansy but I'm in the process of cheering the fuck up and will deal with that shit later.
But things are looking up. Proof: here's an adorable kitty.