This is the kind of post that will make anyone just here for fandom stories unfollow without a question. The kind of post I write while it’s late at night and I’m sleep deprived, and it feels like a good idea. The kind of post filled with things I only ever write, and never speak about out loud to anyone. The kind of post I always quickly regret and erase, because I sound silly and pathetic.
The kind of post I write in a moment where my mind seem clear, when it feels cathartic to write it, and then when I’ll truly get back to my senses, I’ll be like : “Fuck, why did I tell that to ANYONE ? Especially on my tumblr blog where I usually write about Batman or any other fandom I enjoy and no one really knows me like, what the fuck…Why ? They’ll hate me now, for sure.”
Yet, here we are. I posted this.
Anxiety is getting the best of me, and writing about it gives me a leg to kick it in the nuts. In my mind, Anxiety has my dad’s face. I really wish I could kick him in the nuts, that’s why. In fact, I wish I could go back in time, and kick him hard enough in the nuts that I’d never be born, know what I mean ? Ah, but then if I went back in time to do this, I wouldn’t exist in the first place to do it, and therefor I’d still be here, writing this, as if nothing happened. I guess I still have the thought that maybe, once, I travelled back in time to before I was born, and I kicked my dad so hard in the nuts that I erased my own existence.
Unlike my dad though, Anxiety is always around. And has been around for most of my life now.
Every small decision feels like it has life or death consequences. That’s what anxiety is, for me.
About everything. Overthinking to the point nothing makes sense anymore.
Like, for example : “What if the people who say they care about me, they love me…don’t ? The people who say they are my friends, don’t actually think it ? What if everyone is just better off without me ? What if…”
I think that often, and it comes out of nowhere. I don’t understand it myself. Why do I think that ? Nobody in my life gives me any reasons to think that. I just do. I’ve always been quite a solitary person. I like being alone. I do. And I don’t have a lot of friends, or people in my life. So the few I let in, I truly care about them. And then comes the sudden and often irrational fear that…They don’t care. They’re lying. How could anyone possibly care about me anyway ? I’m terrible ? Why am I terrible ? Well, because I think people who’ve always been good to me are lying, and don’t actually care about me…It’s a vicious circle.
As a result : I push people to their limits, as in : I push them away so hard they don’t want to talk to me anymore. I want to trust again, I want to know what’s wrong with me, how to fix it.
How can I be so self-aware of this thing happening, yet not being able to control it ?! To not have those thoughts ? To not let anxiety get the best of me ?
I don’t want to push people away and I want to believe them when they say we’re friends, when they say they care about me…But there’s a voice in my head, my dad’s voice, constantly nagging me.
“Nobody could possibly love you, of course”, it says. It tells me all the thing I’m insecure about, it knows where to hit. Anxiety builds and builds and all of a sudden, I worry about what people think of me. What they truly think of me.
It’s an example, out of all the things that make me feel like I’m fighting an already lost battle. Just an example of this never-ending overthinking process. Sometimes, I get suddenly anxious over what fruit I want to buy. Like I said, every small decision feels like it has massive consequences…
I guess I chose this particular example though, about the people I love and care about, and how anxiety makes me feel like they just don’t return those feelings (how could they ?), because it’s the one that is making me self-sabotaging my own life the most. Driving people away from me by being too much. Knowing I am being too much. Or sometimes, not even knowing.
I get angry, or sad, or have freak outs. Nothing that makes people want to be around me, of course. And I know it, and so let it happen. Why ? I don’t even know. I guess it’s best for them to not get burdened with whatever pain I feel, because it should be just my weight.
And then, after I pushed everyone hard enough, I end up alone.
Lonely. Because I pushed everyone, I tire them out…friends…
Writing this sort of things, and posting it on the internet, on a blog where I just write fanfictions and am here to enjoy things. Where people who follow, follow me for the content, not for whatever identity crisis I’m going through.
Feeling like nobody loves me, while rationally, I guess at least my mom does, right ? Hahaha…Feeling I don’t matter. To anyone, or just in general.
Riddled with anxiety, insecurities and hurt.
Not by choice this time. Not because I wanna be alone, cause I like leading a solitary life with chosen social interactions. Nope.
Because I keep pushing people away. Because I can’t control those freak outs , because after a while…I guess talking to people like me is just “mentally taxing”. And I understand it. I truly do. That’s why I push people away…Do you see the twisted logic ? I freak out because I think people don’t care, while actively pushing them away because…because…
I don’t want to bother anyone. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I just…
Writing is good. It puts some things in perspective and help me sort of understand. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I wish I did. So I could fix it, and stop being awful. So I could make more sense too. But at least when I write it down, it feels more real. I feel real. And not like I’m just a ghost that people can see.
I’m tired of this constant state of Anxiety.
And “Overthinkingness”.
I try. I swear I try not to be like that. I promise. I really, really try. I don’t talk about what’s wrong with me, what makes me sad or feel like I’m a ghost (oh yes because just anxiety wouldn’t be fun, it has to be paired with depression), I try to shut up…And then I have a freak out and push everyone away with it. But I try. I try so hard…
It’s just so out of control. And I don’t think I can take it much longer…
“Wouldn’t it be better if you were out of everyone’s way for good ?”
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