My anxiety’s bad at the moment. There are reasons for this and I know what they are, but that doesn’t help. Some of them are obvious and visible to others; things I can describe.
Look! This worrying thing is happening! And this one, and this one, all at the same time. It’s quite a lot to bear and it’s all taking a toll. But, on the other hand, I’m aware that the precise level of anxiety is determined by my own mental calibration, my own somewhat flawed response mechanisms.
Other people would have a different reaction to the same events. Some of this is just coming from my own head. The caller, as they say, is inside the house.
Like depression, I think that anxiety has its own logic and momentum, and once it starts it can be hard to stop. We can pinpoint triggering events, and set it in a context of real-world experiences, but it also seems to run according to its own timetable, and can come and go as it pleases. Or at least, mine does.
A friend, who knew I’d had a stressful week, said to me at the weekend that she hoped I’d be able to enjoy the sunny weather and relax. I flinched a bit and realised that I quite often have this reaction when someone tells me to relax. I know it’s meant well and comes from a place of love, but telling an anxious person to relax is a bit like telling a depressed person to cheer up.
If we were able to do those things at will, we wouldn’t be in this position. Do you think, I wondered, that the idea of relaxing simply hasn’t occ.
