Trying to fight off all the messages that my anxiety sends me.
Sara, Mayim, and Tovah are all asleep right now. I'm the only one awake in the house, and I am freaking the fuck out in the middle of another anxiety attack. This one is so bad that my hands are shaking, and I feel like I need to either throw up or cry (or maybe both). I know part of the reason it's so bad right now is because I'm the only one awake and don't have anyone to distract me. I'm writing this hoping that maybe I can calm down.
Last week made ten months since we moved into this house, and next week will make one year since we viewed it for the first time. So I've been thinking back a lot lately to this time last year, and about how excited I was about buying a house and moving in. I was looking forward to it. I just cannot understand what happened to that feeling, what happened to that person I used to be. I was nervous about some stuff, sure, and I knew that it would be a hard transition after renting for so long, but for the most part, I was happy about it. I didn't forsee anything like this, with my anxiety and paranoia spiking through the roof at every little sound. I didn't forsee resenting this house for how much it stresses me out, hating living here, and wishing we had never moved out of our old townhouse.
I keep telling myself to be patient, to give myself time, and that eventually, these feelings will pass. Eventually, this house will feel like our home, instead of like a horrible burden. There have been plenty of times in my life when I stressed myself out to hell over other random things ( my old car did this a lot, and my job still does occasionally), but I got over them, and sooner or later, I'll get over this, too. But I really don't think that anything has ever stressed me out like this has.
It's times like this when I feel very aware of how few friends I have. I've never been good at making friends, and I think I've only gotten worse in recent years. I have cut way back on talking, and now I have no patience for people who talk too much. On top of everything else, I've convinced myself that nobody will be there for me if I ever need money or a place to stay or etc. My neighbor has gotten a lot of donations since her house fire because she's so sweet and everyone likes her. And I'm glad that she's gotten help, but there's been a little voice in the back of my mind telling me that I'll never have anything like that if I need it.
I was looking forward to today so mcuh, because the clocks have sprung forward and now the days are longer again. I've been looking forward to it ever since they fell back in November, which was about when my anxiety spiked to new levels. For about the first five months after we moved in, I wasn't like this. I was normal, and Sara was one who stressed and worried about everything. I wish now that I had been nicer to her about it, because it is just so awful to live like this. I'll have short periods where I feel normal/not worried, but then the smallest thing will set me off again. At this point, I'm almost hoping that the Corona virus gets me, but I don't think it will.
I left my purple hat at work over the weekend. Maybe that's part of why I'm feeling so stressed. I'm so used to grabbing it and jamming it down on my head. I just don't understand how people who live in houses do it. Surely they don't all suffer from this crippling anxiety over everything?
Last week made ten months since we moved into this house, and next week will make one year since we viewed it for the first time. So I've been thinking back a lot lately to this time last year, and about how excited I was about buying a house and moving in. I was looking forward to it. I just cannot understand what happened to that feeling, what happened to that person I used to be. I was nervous about some stuff, sure, and I knew that it would be a hard transition after renting for so long, but for the most part, I was happy about it. I didn't forsee anything like this, with my anxiety and paranoia spiking through the roof at every little sound. I didn't forsee resenting this house for how much it stresses me out, hating living here, and wishing we had never moved out of our old townhouse.
I keep telling myself to be patient, to give myself time, and that eventually, these feelings will pass. Eventually, this house will feel like our home, instead of like a horrible burden. There have been plenty of times in my life when I stressed myself out to hell over other random things ( my old car did this a lot, and my job still does occasionally), but I got over them, and sooner or later, I'll get over this, too. But I really don't think that anything has ever stressed me out like this has.
It's times like this when I feel very aware of how few friends I have. I've never been good at making friends, and I think I've only gotten worse in recent years. I have cut way back on talking, and now I have no patience for people who talk too much. On top of everything else, I've convinced myself that nobody will be there for me if I ever need money or a place to stay or etc. My neighbor has gotten a lot of donations since her house fire because she's so sweet and everyone likes her. And I'm glad that she's gotten help, but there's been a little voice in the back of my mind telling me that I'll never have anything like that if I need it.
I was looking forward to today so mcuh, because the clocks have sprung forward and now the days are longer again. I've been looking forward to it ever since they fell back in November, which was about when my anxiety spiked to new levels. For about the first five months after we moved in, I wasn't like this. I was normal, and Sara was one who stressed and worried about everything. I wish now that I had been nicer to her about it, because it is just so awful to live like this. I'll have short periods where I feel normal/not worried, but then the smallest thing will set me off again. At this point, I'm almost hoping that the Corona virus gets me, but I don't think it will.
I left my purple hat at work over the weekend. Maybe that's part of why I'm feeling so stressed. I'm so used to grabbing it and jamming it down on my head. I just don't understand how people who live in houses do it. Surely they don't all suffer from this crippling anxiety over everything?