Exhaustion and Therapy and Anxiety

I (probably) should go to therapy. (No shit, says anyone who’s read all my posts.)

There’s only so much introspection one person can do before they realize that their thoughts aren’t normal.

I realized, when I was a Junior in high school, that it wasn’t normal to daydream about dying. That was a pretty life changing moment. I was on the bus. It was morning. I realized that not everyone had those thoughts, that they were probably intrusive and unhealthy.

I’ve realized recently that most people probably don’t have obsessive and intrusive thoughts about the bridge they’re driving over collapsing beneath them.

Tonight I realized my approach to starting new (romantic) relationships is probably not healthy. It is probably obsessive.

I don’t think that knowing the source of my problems will solve things. I’m sure it has something to do with my Daddy Issues and fear of being abandoned. I’m sure my self esteem problems, unhealthy relationship with food, general self hate, and overall anxiety about social situations all stem from traumatic childhood bullshit.

I don’t care about why I’m broken. I care about fixing it.

I realize this is probably a part of the problem.

I really like this guy in my frat. I also don’t know how to approach romantic things. It’s been almost two years since I tried to be romantically involved with someone. Several people have told me I’ve been reading too much into everything and that it’s “Chill. Just chill.” I don’t know how to explain to them that chilling or non-analysis is not how I function.

I don’t understand people. I think that’s why I’m so honest all the time. It’s my motto that if I’m honest with people, people will be honest with me. If they’re honest with me and I know I can trust them, then I don’t have to worry about understanding social cues or reading body language or overanalyzing one interaction or statement or facial expression. I notice everything. I have to.

Learning that not everyone will be as honest with me as I am with them has been difficult. It hasn’t stopped me from being honest, though. Do I start keeping things to myself? Is that the solution?

Mostly I just want to give up on this thing before it even starts. I’m physically exhausted from thinking about it. Not because he exhausts me, but rather because I am exhausting myself.

I am exhausting.

I’ve been thinking that maybe therapy would help me understand what a healthy relationship is. All healthy relationships. With myself, my friends, my family, my prospective partners. I don’t know how they work. I don’t understand how to achieve them.

Explaining that to my mother will be hard. She’s never been very understanding. Or good at listening. We usually just end up yelling at each other.

This is not a well written post. Tonight I’ve done everything I could think of to deal with my anxiety. I’ve colored, cleaned, done a face mask. I drank water, took my vitamins, I danced to Eminem. Nothing has helped. I thought writing would. My shoulders still feel tense, my heart still thumping, my skin still tingly, my body still thrumming for something to make me feel less like I need to scream.

Maybe I should make the appointment soon.



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