Spiral of Doom

What does it feel like to not worry constantly? To not feel an impending sense of doom, even during fleeting moments of happiness? What does it feel like to... feel relaxed? Anyone watch It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia? The first episode when Danny DeVito's character, Frank, joins- the gang is in the hospital, arguing, when Frank yells "SHUUUTTT UUUPPP! Don't yous ever quit arguing, and just shut the hell up?!" I want to scream that to my anxiety. It. Never. Shuts. UP.

And one of the hardest parts?


No one understands.


No one, except for other agoraphobics or people dealing with some form of a severe anxiety disorder. Okay, so that's not "no one", but I don't know of anyone personally (though I am starting to meet some amazing fellow sufferers via my tumblr).


Back to my point- no one in my immediate surroundings understands. My parents and Vuni are trying their best to; I can only imagine how foreign and difficult it is for them to try to imagine the irrational world that my mind is... maybe almost as hard as it is for me to imagine what it's like to not deal with the anxiety. I just don't know; how could I? Though there have been periods of my life where it definitely was less severe, I really don't know what it's like to not have anxiety. I just don't.


But what freaking sucks about no one understanding is it really causes a lot of problems... for instance, in relation to people not understanding why I'm waiting to be approved for disability/haven't been able to get a job. I feel like a broken record saying this, even here on my blog, but I feel I have to say it to validate myself: ever since leaving my last job, the only brief period (about 6 weeks) that I have not been actively looking for a job is right before and after my surgery back in June... which that should be a given as to why. I comb Craigslist, the local news paper, community websites, certain websites like the local school districts and hospitals frequently. I fill out applications and send in resumes and if needed write cover letters... to available positions that I think I can handle.


But I'm agoraphobic.


I'm terrified of people. I hate confrontation, arguing, and debate. My skin is tissue paper thin. I can't handle people being rude or inconsiderate, and I especially cannot handle them being rude to me for no reason or fault of my own. I'm terrified of people.


I absolutely, positively, 110% KNOW that I cannot work in customer service, retail, ect. Seeing as that until just a few weeks ago, I was a college student (now grad- hell to the yes!) most of my options of a job were customer service and retail: restaurants, the mall, grocery stores, call centers, ect.


But I just can't do it. The majority of my past jobs- 9 in all (yeah, 9 in 4.5 years), have been customer service or retail. Each experience has gotten progressively worse. Pessimist or just plain agoraphobe, it's not the routine or good experiences I remember from each... it's the bad ones. I remember the very first time I ever got cussed out by a customer at my very first job, at Cold Stone Creamery back in 2005. In that one instance, all my fears of getting a job came true: that the world was a scary place, that people could be and would be cruel for no reason, and that there was nothing I could do to defend myself.


Flash forward to my most recent job; I'm coming up to my one year anniversary of leaving there. Joann's, the craft store. My boss was a very kind, understanding man. He knew that I was a hard worker; because of this, he tried to accommodate me. He tried his hardest to not schedule me to work the cut table or cash registers, so that I was mostly store recovery, merchandising, receiving, ect. It didn't matter. I still had to deal with customers. Frequently. I began having panic attacks so severe, I was sent home on more than one occasion. I was using alcohol to deal with my anxiety, and it was becoming out of control. Finally, I had the option of quitting or being fired.


That was the straw that broke the camel's back. I knew I couldn't do something working closely with the public again.


The thought terrifies me so much... I wish I could better put this into words without sounding so dramatic, but I'd rather be dead than having to work so closely to people. I'm not lying... it seriously SCARES THE SHIT OUT OF ME. I'm pretty confident that if I were forced into/had absolutely NO choice but to... I'd probably be having suicidal thoughts. Because even thinking about it... makes me feel like I am suffocating... drowning... I can't fathom it.


Seeing these thoughts (as well as I can explain them) makes me see a little more clearly just how irrational they are... but it doesn't make them any less severe.


I had been contemplating looking into disability for awhile, but felt guilty; I'm smart, hard-working, and intuitive. It's not that I'm totally incapable. However- I am also physically limited, due to my heart condition. Taking in consideration the severity of my anxiety, with the combination of my most recent heart surgery and its complications, my GP suggested I apply for disability. So I have; but it involves a lot of waiting, and I have not stopped job hunting.


Recently, my mother-in-law (well, almost... that's practically what she is) has been texting me and making a lot of suggestions of different places that she sees that are hiring. I truly appreciate that she is being sweet enough to let me know, and I feel like an ungrateful bitch saying this... but in other ways, her suggestions frustrate the hell out of me.


She knows that I'm in the disability approval process. She knows why. But it doesn't stop her from suggesting I apply to places/positions that make my heart race just thinking about them. This sends my mind into a frenzy of thoughts... and I just don't know what's true and what makes sense. Does she not take my anxiety disorder seriously? Or does she just not understand the severity of it? Does she just think I'm lazy?


Trust me, I feel guilty as shit. If you asked her over 5 years ago (pre-Em days) about the kind of person she imagined her son falling in love with, she probably would not have said an anxious, irrational loser... which is probably what I look like to her. Fucking awful feeling. I would love to make her, and Vun's father, proud, to prove that I am worthy of their precious, talented boy... but I feel like all I keep doing is making myself look worse and worse. Like I will never be good enough for their son.


So my anxiety about finances and job hunting flow right into me feeling like I'm not good enough to be with the person I love more than anything else in the world. I'm in no way trying to blame my in-laws, but again, it does not ease the guilt I feel for not being the amazing person their son deserves. I know I shouldn't worry, because obviously, Vuni wants to be with me. He's told me this numerous times; and the fact that, if he really didn't want me, he'd leave. He loves me. I can't always figure out why... I find it extraordinary that Vuni can see the person past the anxiety, because to be honest, even I have trouble with the fact that I am not my anxiety... that I am a person, not a disorder. And that's what makes Vuni so much more awesome, what makes me love him that much more... he loves the person that I am. But I'm absolutely terrified at the thought that I just might not get the life that I dream of having with him... because what if he stops seeing the person and only sees the anxiety?


Moving on... let me talk finances. I've bitched about this before. But let me explain how this also contributes to my anxiety, aside from the fact that financial situations are shitty all the way around. Lack of money means I don't have money for therapy. I have a wonderful therapist; I've been seeing her off and on for over seven years. I haven't seen her too much recently, because I figure, if I can't afford to see her regularly, what's the point? If I absolutely need to talk to her, I call her up, and go in for an appointment... but I usually only do that if I feel like it's an emergency. She's always there for me, regardless of how much time has gone by since the last time I've talked to her. I guess that's the good thing.


Not only do finances limit me therapy wise, but... there are things that I would love to attempt to pursue, that I just don't have the money to. For example, photography is one of those things. I have some training; I was a photo/videographer for the campus online & print newspaper, and I've taken editing and design classes. So I've dipped my toes into this... but what I'd like to get into is nature photography. I'd need a halfway decent camera and more training, however. 


See why I feel like I'm caught in this spiral of doom? I don't have a job, so I can't afford therapy. I can't afford to pursue something that I just might be able to get good at and actually make a career out of, or at least earn a little bit of income. I can't imagine facing the world... so I need therapy. Without contributing, or at least having some talent to show for, I feel like a big, fat, worthless loser... oh wait, I didn't talk about that part? I talked about the loser part, but what I didn't talk about is how all of the anxiety and guilt relates directly to my body image. Not even joking; anyone who's had/has an eating disorder knows what I mean. Guilt, anxiety, any negative emotions make you feel fat. It's irrational as ALL hell. I'm trying to ignore the ED voices, and have been doing a better job at it than I have in the past... but they're still there. Telling me that I'm a fat, worthless loser. Ballooning me to a flabby, doughy fat ass when I look in the mirror... even though the way my clothes fit (and the size of them) tell a completely different story. Talk about confusing... when numbers (and people making comments) tell you that you're itty-bitty tiny, but seeing yourself as overweight? Crazy. And not fun.


So that's the spiral of doom. I'm probably leaving things out, but there's the gist of it. I feel like I'm stuck, stuck in a damn toilet bowl of anxiety and irrational thinking... and I don't know how (or when) I'm going to get out.

What I do know is that I'm not going to stop swimming against the current, and trying to find a way out...