Obsession

The first symptom on Mayo Clinic's list for Generalized Anxiety Disorder:
Constant worrying or obsession about small or large concerns

How do you stop it?

That's what's wrong with me. I obsess. Everyday. Over every little issue, big or small. That's why I go crazy knowing my friends are hiding things from me. It leads to total paranoia. When my friends say vague things and refuse to explain, I obsess about what they could be talking about. When I know someone's hiding something from me, it hijacks my mind. People wonder why I remember details about everyone, even if I don't know them well. I need to know enough about people to have an accurate picture of them in my mind. It kills me when my friends do it and it makes me want to lie to them, lead them on, and make vague statements without explaining. My childish reaction is "two can play that game" when I know that keeping things from me doesn't mean they love me any less and that I should trust them. My brain knows that, but that sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach and the tightness in my chest make me ignore my brain.

Even writing this is pissing me off. Thank you GAD for the uncontrollable anxiety that makes me freak out over absolutely everything, which is also part of the reason people don't tell me things. I can't handle it. I need to know, but it's too much once I do. I understand why people with GAD usually have depression. You can't live like this and still be happy. Obsession has driven me to nightmares, self-destructive behavior, health problems, eating problems, medication...and I'm sure I'm going to die much younger than I should. What sucks is I know it's stupid, crazy, unnecessary...I know it's a disorder. I just can't figure out how to turn it off.

Love,
Juliana

Edit: I had a horrible dream last night after writing this post. It reminded me very clearly what I used to be like before I started taking medicine. It helps me so much.

I want your ugly. I want your disease.

I've seen this quote on Facebook a million times. "If you can't handle me at my worst, you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best." I thought this sounded extremely bitchy, and it does, bit it's also a twisted way of saying something very true.

Real relationships are all or nothing. You take the good, the bad, and the ugly. You accept their flaws because you know you have them too, and you would want them to do the same for you. It's so important for people to have relationships because they can share the good and the bad. When you share good, it spreads and multiplies. When you share the bad, the weight is divided, and it's not as hard to deal with. Everyone has a dark side, but the people who really love them will work through the darkness.

I would never expect anyone to want me at my worst. I get moody, I have anxiety attacks over small things, sometimes I cry at random, I'm stubborn, I always have to be right, I worry about everything, and the tiniest of triggers can change my mood in an instant. I'm sorry for all that. I wish I could change and I try, but I would never go so far to say that someone who can't deal with it doesn't deserve me. I'm more than grateful for the people who stick around when I'm bitchy, and if we're throwing around the word "deserve," I definitely don't deserve them.

It's what Lady Gaga's Bad Romance is about, isn't it? Or what Baby says to her father at the end of Dirty Dancing? If you love someone, you love all of them. You love them for who they are, even if it's not always pretty, because you know they would do the same for you.

Love,
Juliana

People ask me why I don't usually let anyone read what I write. To me, my stories are the most intimate things I can possibly share with you. Letting someone read anything I write makes me feel exposed because they are based on my real experiences and real imagination. In short, the purest expression of me. I express emotions in stories, good, bad, weird, whatever. Whenever I don't have words to describe how I feel, I write it into a story and make my characters feel the way I do. I let their actions speak for me. What makes me feel like I'm doing it well is when I let someone read a sad story I wrote and they tell me it made them cry. It made me cry to write it, so it makes me feel like they understand. I just don't like to show people because I'm afraid they'll judge me once they know what really goes on in my mind. I'm afraid they won't understand.

Regret

I don't regret the last four years. On my 12th birthday, I made all these plans in my mind for my 18th. I thought I would be more confident. I thought about my future boyfriend and what he might be like. I wondered if I would still be a virgin by then. I though my future self was pretty cool, and I admired her.

I'm not cool, and I do wish I wasn't so afraid of everything, but I don't resent who I am. I may not have done all the things I thought I would, but I remind myself that when it came down to it, I didn't want to do those things anyway. I went through high school doing what felt right, not what that naive little sixth grader would have wanted me to do. I definitely don't regret that.



Love,
Juliana