Thinking about it I have no idea when my anxiety started. I guess I've always been scared of everything but I always thought I was just a massive wimp. My mum has always brought me up to be scared of the big bad world around me and I guess it's kinda stuck. I can't really say if that's the reason for sure though.
Ever since I was little I would make a bigger fuss of things then I should of. I guess that I've just always been a drama queen but the reason I make such a big deal of all these things is I take everything I'm told to heart. I've always cared way too much of what people thought about me. The smallest little thing could set me off for weeks.
My primary was horrible, I hated it. I always had really bad stomach aches for no reason and found myself crying my eyes out for a lot of the time. Usually it was just stupid little things but I just felt the need to be liked. I hated the idea of people not liking me and always suspected people were plotting against me.
All my main worries have been about what other people thought of me. I make my problems ten times bigger than they should be, any happy time I have is sooner or later interrupted by horrible "what ifs". I've though about the what ifs for almost all of my life but they've only recently started developing into anxiety attacks.
It takes the average person five to ten minuets to fall asleep, it takes me around an hour. I'm put completely off my appetite. I can't handle being on public transport without having an anxiety episode and I'm petrified to leave my house every morning. I hate the feeling of panicking in front of people. I hate the idea of people seeing me like that. If I panic in front of people it often gets worse, I no longer end up thinking about the what ifs, I think about all the horrible things people will say about me and how much of a drama queen I am for panicking over such a small thing.
An anxiety attack is one of the worse things I have experienced. The best last about five to ten minuets and then stop. The worse one lasted about two hours. Half the time I have no idea why they start, I just feel dizzy, stuffy and get a headache. The walls close in, and sooner or later I find it hard to breath. I start tapping my fingers and can't really control the movement in my arms. I can't even pick up a pencil. Then someone notices and they ask questions. I usually just say I'm fine.
Your probably wondering why I'm sharing this on my blog. I know it's not my usual type of post. It's started to feel like I can't tell anyone. My friends just think I'm over exaggerating, my parents don't realise they're happening almost everyday. It feels like no one I talk to understands how scared and alone I feel. I've been to the doctors and they referred me to a psychologist. I'm just waiting for my parents to book an appointment.
Maybe I am over exaggerating. What if I really am just a massive drama queen? What if I'm going to have to deal with theses everyday for the rest of my life?
goodbye for now
xxx
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