Still Anxious
This post is written by Mily Blackheart. You can learn more about Mily’s story here.
I didn’t realize I had so much anxiety, until I REALIZED I had so much anxiety. Anxiety was just part of my day to day life. It was my, “I’m an introvert and I need to recharge” excuse. It wasn’t until I was in the most peaceful place that I noticed how much anxiety I actually carried around with me. I have no obligations, I’m financially sound, I don’t have to show up and meet anyone, and I have nowhere to be and the except the anxiety was there. I was looking forward to this time in my life. The place where I can relax and yet the “relax” hadn’t arrived when I did. I was holding on to the anxiety because it was propelling me to do “all the things I expected of myself.”
I was recently living and working in a city, living a normal life, involved in the community, hanging with friends, and I always needed an hour or so to prepare myself. I always told myself, “I’m shy and people drain me, I need to charge before I go out into the world.” The fact is, I just have ANXIETY and so much of it. I arrived at my fathers place in the middle of nowhere and I told myself, “I don’t need to feel this way,” so I stopped, everything. For the month of March, my birthday gift to myself was to take the month off. If I didn't want to do anything, I didn't. The first few days into my journey of nothingness, I still felt anxiety. I felt doubt about the decision I made. I have always put pressure on myself, to be productive, to be inclusive, to be making progress in some fashion. I was the source of my anxiety and I decided to stop it.
I can’t tell you that by doing this exercise is going to translate when I move back to the city. I can’t say that I won’t feel anxious when I’m meeting a group of people or going to a loud place. But I do know, I no longer feel anxious in a peaceful place.
Looking back on it, anxiety was ruining my day. I often found myself looking forward to the wind down, to the “peace of my place,” when I was out with friends and not being productive. Somewhere along the line of my childhood upbringing I was taught that when you’re not doing anything, it’s not right. “Be useful, don’t waste time,” have rang bells in my ears on a constant basis. I grew up poor for the first half of my upbringing and I grew up privileged for the second half. But once I knew life on the other side of poverty, I never wanted to fall that far down again. Anxiety is what has kept me afloat for so many years. I may have had to stay home under the covers, in the dark before I went out of my “peaceful place,” but I always got done what needed to be done to not to be hungry. I put so much pressure on the idea of thriving that I never gave myself a chance to relax.
Then, there came a time, this current time in my life, where everything was “ok.” Life is good. I’m safe and sound, but still anxious. I got so used to feeling anxious and allowing it to be a part of my method of pursuing progress that I didn’t realize that the deep feelings that pushed me, were not a place of happiness. So, I stopped. I stopped everything. After a few weeks of nothingness, I feel inspired to write, to read, to learn again, but this time, I'm being propelled by a place of peace and not a place of anxiety. I’m finally creating from a place of “want” and not a place of “need”.