Five
3:13am //
"Why am I still up?"
How many snapchat stories have I seen with this caption? //
I want to set one thing straight. I know my posts come off as though I'm complaining about my mother and some of you may even think that I hate her. But that's not the case at all. Frankly, it's quite the opposite. I know that everything she says is out of care for me as her child and all she wants is the best for me. She just has a...might I say...odd way of expressing it. Even then, I love her for worrying about me and my future.
Her criticisms are harsh. And she always knows which words will rip you apart from inside out. But in her words there is always, without fail, an element of truth. And it's the reason why I get so easily affected by her words. Perhaps I'm in denial and I don't want to face the truth.
I don't want to face myself. I'm scared of facing myself. //
Is this another "Who am I?" moment? Maybe. But then again, when do we ever stop questioning ourselves that. //
There are countless definitions of anxiety:
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Anxiety
The biggest bitch you will ever meet. Only it's inside your head.
Source: Urban Dictionary
*********************************************************************************
I think anxiety is a self-inflicted disease. It's when you let your darkest demons envelop you in a shroud of pain and your overflowing emotions turn to confusion. You being asking yourself all those existential questions. You question life. You question death. You question all the choices you've made in life and you label them all as bad. Maybe your worst choice was letting yourself feel this way in the first place. But you couldn't help it, you had no control. //
Do we ever have absolute control of our actions?
Every move we make is relative to our surroundings. We are influenced at every corner of life. I know I am.
Severely. //
When my psychologist asked me what I perceived the triggers to my anxiety were, my immediate first thought was: my mothers criticisms.
But thinking about it now, I can't really blame anything for being a trigger other than myself. My mother will not change the way she thinks and speaks. It's how I receive what she says and how I let it affect me. Her words hurt me because I agree with her statements. And if they are criticisms of me, then I too must subconsciously know that there are aspects about me that I know could be better.
It's like being stuck in a room with a clone of yourself. You are forced to stare at the truest form of the truth. And that's never easy to accept. Instead we try to look for excuses and blame anything for the overwhelming flaws we are revealed with. That's when the anxiety takes over. That's when you start thinking that hiding in the dark means that you don't have to see yourself anymore. That's when you run away from the truth and that's when you get stuck inside your head a little too deep to climb back out.
Maybe I should just stop making excuses. //
Even with my analysis, I'm still struggling. And I think I will continue to struggle for quite some time. But little by little, I am building up my strength. The strength to accept the choices I've made that have formed the person I am today, so that one day I can face myself and embrace my reflection.
"Why am I still up?"
How many snapchat stories have I seen with this caption? //
I want to set one thing straight. I know my posts come off as though I'm complaining about my mother and some of you may even think that I hate her. But that's not the case at all. Frankly, it's quite the opposite. I know that everything she says is out of care for me as her child and all she wants is the best for me. She just has a...might I say...odd way of expressing it. Even then, I love her for worrying about me and my future.
Her criticisms are harsh. And she always knows which words will rip you apart from inside out. But in her words there is always, without fail, an element of truth. And it's the reason why I get so easily affected by her words. Perhaps I'm in denial and I don't want to face the truth.
I don't want to face myself. I'm scared of facing myself. //
Is this another "Who am I?" moment? Maybe. But then again, when do we ever stop questioning ourselves that. //
There are countless definitions of anxiety:
anxiety
aŋˈzʌɪəti/
noun
- 1.a feeling of worry, nervousness, or unease about something with an uncertain outcome.
*********************************************************************************
Anxiety
The biggest bitch you will ever meet. Only it's inside your head.
Source: Urban Dictionary
*********************************************************************************
I think anxiety is a self-inflicted disease. It's when you let your darkest demons envelop you in a shroud of pain and your overflowing emotions turn to confusion. You being asking yourself all those existential questions. You question life. You question death. You question all the choices you've made in life and you label them all as bad. Maybe your worst choice was letting yourself feel this way in the first place. But you couldn't help it, you had no control. //
Do we ever have absolute control of our actions?
Every move we make is relative to our surroundings. We are influenced at every corner of life. I know I am.
Severely. //
When my psychologist asked me what I perceived the triggers to my anxiety were, my immediate first thought was: my mothers criticisms.
But thinking about it now, I can't really blame anything for being a trigger other than myself. My mother will not change the way she thinks and speaks. It's how I receive what she says and how I let it affect me. Her words hurt me because I agree with her statements. And if they are criticisms of me, then I too must subconsciously know that there are aspects about me that I know could be better.
It's like being stuck in a room with a clone of yourself. You are forced to stare at the truest form of the truth. And that's never easy to accept. Instead we try to look for excuses and blame anything for the overwhelming flaws we are revealed with. That's when the anxiety takes over. That's when you start thinking that hiding in the dark means that you don't have to see yourself anymore. That's when you run away from the truth and that's when you get stuck inside your head a little too deep to climb back out.
Maybe I should just stop making excuses. //
Even with my analysis, I'm still struggling. And I think I will continue to struggle for quite some time. But little by little, I am building up my strength. The strength to accept the choices I've made that have formed the person I am today, so that one day I can face myself and embrace my reflection.
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