Well,Â that's the lovely feeling that I have now, I think. Generalised anxiety, and stress.Â Talking it over made it seem all the more real, so writing it out might be an idea as well.Â Â Anxiety disorder.Â Â I don't talk about it much, do I?Â Then again, I don't talk much about what goes on in my head with anyone. Not even with my therapist.
Which isn't that strange, I'm a product of the upbringing that anxiety is just "imagination" and "get a hold of yourself" is the only cure. That "depression" was something you caught like a yeast infection, from the bad music, bad friends, simply bad influences.Â That it would be cured with a change of environment.Â That if you just tried harder, it'd go away.
It took me a long time to get over that notion.Â Â I still haven't.Â Not in my own head. It requires me to sit down and function rationally for me to realise that I can't function rationally.
When I close my eyes I have absurd flashbacks from old computer roleplaying games. I don't sleep well, because I feel a stress that I need to sleep soon.Â I don't get things done, because the overwhelming need to do things is consuming my every moment, the effort of not running to the kitchen and beating the wall because it's a good idea is overwhelming all kind of rationality in function that I could have.
So, how am I coping?Â Â Not well.
And what do I do about it?Â currently. Nothing. It's the only thing I can do. I have a slight idea. I have a slight plan.
But I am afraid that if I flesh it out more, the guilt that I haven't done it yet will be greater than the guilt I feel right now, and...Â Â Â The fear consumes my thinking.
Here, have some pills. They will shut off your brain.
Life is much easier without your brain.