Week 10: July 15-21, 2018

Sunday, July 15

Anxiety Brain: See, Person G thinks you're crazy, too. I told you that this blog was a bad idea.
Me: Yeah, didn't expect negative responses two weeks in a row.
Anxiety Brain: You sure you shouldn't just stop writing in general?
Me: At the moment, I don't know. Certainly seems to be a bad idea lately.
Anxiety Brain: You're going to lose friends if you keep posting this stuff, you know.
Me: I don't think we've reached that point.
Anxiety Brain: Your page view numbers are down. People are sick of you. That's only a step away from losing friends.
Me: Maybe...
Anxiety Brain: Certainly doesn't paint you in a good light. I mean, last week half of our conversations were about you spending more time worrying about yourself than about the fact that one of your best friends was getting married and needed your help with the wedding. And the other half of them were about you worrying about the same topic you've been writing about worrying about for weeks. People think you're a horrible person. And that you're needy and pathetic. And you know I'm right.
Me: I don't know how to not worry about those things. I'm trying. I'm working on it. But it doesn't go away overnight. It takes weeks and months and maybe even years. It's a process. People should know that.
Anxiety Brain: Yeah, well people are sick of it being a process. Either fix yourself now or stay the hell away from other people in the meantime because they're annoyed and fed up with you at this point.
Me: Not like it's a picnic for me either. And I need people if there's any hope of it getting better.
Anxiety Brain: No one likes a negative person. So if you really want people around all that much, figure out how to hide all your angst and neediness and act like a normal person.
Me: I've spent most of the last week trying to hide it. It didn't work. It meant nearly having very public anxiety meltdowns on multiple occasions. I need to be able to talk about it.
Anxiety Brain: Well, you can't. Not if you want people to like you.
Me: What am I supposed to do, then? Because I can't not talk about it.
Anxiety Brain: Well, you could isolate again.
Me: Doesn't that defeat the purpose of wanting people around?
Anxiety Brain: It preserves your image. People will still think of you in a positive light without you screwing it up. Or at least the ones that you haven't already scared away - but at least you won't give those ones a chance to say how awful you are to your face if you avoid them completely.
Me: I hate that you make sense right now.
Anxiety Brain: I make sense a lot of the time. You should listen to me more. Which would happen if you stopped letting other people in.
Me: But I like other people.
Anxiety Brain: Well, they don't like you. Most of them think that you're crazy. The others are sick of your pessimism and self-centeredness. And the only way you can save face at all is if you stop sharing all your flaws. And if you can't do that, your best option is to isolate. And definitely stop writing.
Me: Did I mention that I hate that you make sense right now?
Anxiety Brain: You did. But unlike last week, you're actually listening to me.
Me: Yeah.
Anxiety Brain: So you're going to build the walls back up?
Me: Probably. At least for now. At least for tonight.
Anxiety Brain: And you're going to stop writing?
Me: Maybe. Or maybe sharing it. I don't know. I made a commitment to myself; I don't know that I'm quite ready to give that up.
Anxiety Brain: But you're considering it.
Me: Yeah.
Anxiety Brain: And you're not going to talk to anyone?
Me: Not tonight. Especially because the two people I'd usually talk to are on vacation, and unreachably on vacation at that.
Anxiety Brain: I get you to myself the rest of the night then?
Me: Yep.
Anxiety Brain: You're a horrible, awful, crappy person.
Me: I'm aware.
Anxiety Brain: And no one wants you around.
Me: Starting to think you were right on that.
Anxiety Brain: Glad to see you appreciate my wisdom.
Me: Yeah, yeah. It's going to be a long night...


Monday, July 16

Anxiety Brain: You haven't heard from Person Z in a while.
Me: True.
Anxiety Brain: Pretty sure they don't want to be your friend anymore.
Me: There are plenty of other reasons that could be behind the fact that I haven't heard from Person Z.
Anxiety Brain: Like what?
Me: Like they have a life? Like their entire existence doesn't revolve around me?
Anxiety Brain: Or they've realized how needy you are, think that you're ridiculous and obsessive, and are avoiding you because they're too nice to actually tell you those things.
Me: And the fact that everything they ever actually say is to the contrary of that?
Anxiety Brain: Just them being too nice to tell you that they're sick of tolerating your existence.
Me: Pretty sure you're wrong on that one.
Anxiety Brain: And you're so sure because...?
Me: Because this is why I write down the nice things that people say or write to me.
Anxiety Brain: But what if that was from before they got sick of you?
Me: You know, there are enough recent things that I'm pretty sure it's all still true.
Anxiety Brain: Well, fine. Just don't blame me if you go making a fool of yourself by thinking that they're still your friend when really they're just trying to let you down easy.
Me: Sure. Right. Pretty sure they'll prove you wrong in the end. And for once, I'm going to trust them and not you.


Tuesday, July 17

Me: I think I might have actually finally figured out a blog post that I want to write. It means splitting this old one into two separate topics, but that's probably for the best
Anxiety Brain: That topic sounds stupid.
Me: No. I think it'll work
Anxiety Brain: You're just trying to incur sympathy so that people will like you. Which people hate, so they're actually going to like you less.
Me: Or I'm just sharing the life experiences of the past that give some explanation for some of the struggles I have now.
Anxiety Brain: Yeah, mostly you're just trying to gain friends by making people feel sorry for you.
Me: Not really the goal. Just sharing a story and trying to help people understand me a little more. I'm just going to write it. You'll see. These posts always turn out.
(A while later)
Anxiety Brain: That sounds stupid.
Me: Yeah, this really isn't turning out how I'd hoped it would.
Anxiety Brain: You're going to go another week without a blog post. It's been a lot of weeks now.
Me: Well, maybe I'll set this one aside for a while, and try something different. It's really been longer than I would have liked since posting to my regular blog.
(A few hours and half a dozen partial posts later)
Me: I hate days when I want to write and just can't get an idea developed.
Anxiety Brain: You really ought to give up on getting a new post published again this week.
Me: Unfortunately, I might have to. Just not enough time in my schedule this week. Or, really, the last few weeks in general.
Anxiety Brain: You may as well just give up completely. Not like anyone wants to read what you write anymore. I mean, just look at the post from last week on your blog about me. It has the fewest views of anything you've written in a long time.
Me: So it was an off week. Not a reason to quit.
Anxiety Brain: Better off quitting before you go totally bust.
Me: Or not.
Anxiety Brain: I mean, unless you really don't want to have any friends left. Which hasn't been looking great for you. You haven't really connected with any friends at all this week.
Me: My fault. I thought I should use yesterday and today to pack for moving, so I chose not to schedule any time with friends. The goal was to have the time and energy to be productive without getting distracted. Except it turns out that you're just annoying enough that I've gotten literally nothing done over the past two days.
Anxiety Brain: Except fail at writing.
Me: Yeah, choosing not to schedule anytime with friends these couple of days was a mistake.
Anxiety Brain: Why, because you need them to boost your ego? Because you're completely incapable of doing it yourself?
Me: No, because I've had to spend the last week fighting you with almost no help, and I'm going to be spending most of the next week fighting you with no help, and I'm exhausted, and I need reinforcements.
Anxiety Brain: Sounds like what I said. You're a pathetic person who can't figure out how to be happy without other people telling you that you're awesome. Which is needy. And unfair to the people you call "friends." And it's no wonder that no one wants to talk to you this week.
Me: Yep. Note to self - next time I have a bunch of high-pressure social time, I'm better off using my free time to recharge with people I like than I am trying to recharge by myself where I'm stuck listening to you by myself. I'm not making this mistake again.


Wednesday, July 18

Anxiety Brain: Why aren't you helping get the SUV loaded?
Me: Because it's intense out there, and I'd rather avoid that anxiety-inducing situation.
Anxiety Brain: But you should be helping. You're just being lazy. What on earth is wrong with you?
Me: If I'm going to make it through this weekend, I need to not start it feeling like I'm in the way and like I do everything wrong. Which is what's going to happen if I go out there. So I'm going to stay in the basement and get some quality dog snuggle time before leaving my dog here for the long weekend.
Anxiety Brain: All I hear is you talking about what you need. What you need doesn't matter. You're supposed to be helping other people.
Me: Self care is a thing. And it's what I'm doing right now.
Anxiety Brain: You've said that so many times in the last couple of weeks that it's ceased to have any meaning. You're just using it as an excuse.
Me: No. Self care is an all-the-time thing. And it gets more important in continual high-pressure social situations like the last couple of weeks have been.
Anxiety Brain: More excuses. What is wrong with you? You just never think of anyone but yourself.
Me: (Tries to tune out Anxiety Brain by focusing on giving the dog attention).
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Anxiety Brain: The bikes are going to fall off the back of the SUV.
Me: Person Q had the bike shop people check how the bikes were strapped on, and the bike shop people said it was fine, so I'm sure they'll be fine.
Anxiety Brain: But that was a test run; it wasn't today. Today the bikes are definitely going to fall off the back.
Me: I can see one of the bike tires. It's not moving.
Anxiety Brain: Have you looked out the back window?
Me: No. Not yet. (Looks out back window)
Anxiety Brain: So you see how much their rattling back there. They're definitely going to fall off.
Me: I'm sure it has something to do with physics and how the air is moving around them. Moving doesn't mean they're going to fall off.
Anxiety Brain: Plus, you know the luggage carrier on top is going to fall off, too.
Me: Hasn't yet. And we've used that on lots of trips.
Anxiety Brain: Also, it's going to pop open. And your suitcase is up there. So your suitcase is going to be on the side of the highway somewhere, and you'll never get it back. Which means you won't get its contents back. And you're really going to miss some of those irreplaceable t-shirts. Which will probably be strewn all over the highway because your suitcase will pop open and everything inside will fly out everywhere.
Me: (Sarcastically) Thanks for that visual. It's so comforting.
Anxiety Brain: I'm just saying, putting things in luggage carriers is a terrible, horrible idea, and you're going to regret it.
Me: Person Q says that physics will keep the carrier closed even if it does come unlocked.
Anxiety Brain: But what if it doesn't?
Me: It's never been an issue before.
Anxiety Brain: But what if today it is?
Me: It'll be fine.
Anxiety Brain: But what if it isn't.
Me: And pulling out phone games for distraction now.



Thursday, July 19

Anxiety Brain: You're sitting at a restaurant with your family and your face is glued to your phone.
Me: Which I haven't taken out all day except to take pictures, and I want to post some of said pictures as long as we're in a location where my phone actually has reasonable service.
Anxiety Brain: The workers are going to judge you.
Me: All I want to do is post some pictures while I still have a shot at being close enough to the location in order to actually tag it accurately, and then I'm going to put my phone away.
Anxiety Brain: It's a small restaurant. All the workers can see you. And all they're going to see is a pathetic, self-centered millenial who can't put their phone away long enough to enjoy a meal with your family.
Me: I'm not the only one at this table with my phone out. Because introvert time is a thing.
Anxiety Brain: Well, your whole family is being judged, then. But it's your fault. You were the first one to take it out. And you're also the reason these small-town people are going to judge your entire generation for never putting away their phones.
Me: That stereotype existed long before this moment in time.
Anxiety Brain: But you're the one to come in here and confirm it.
Me: Fine. But the pictures are posted, and I'm putting my phone away.
Anxiety Brain: Too late. You're already the reason that the phone addiction stereotype of your generation will be forever perpetuated in this small town.
Me: (Takes phone back out for distraction's sake)


Friday, July 20

Anxiety Brain: The director knows that you're a music major now. He's going to expect you to be perfect.
Me: I'm sight-singing everything. I'm just here as a visitor for one week because Person W invited my family to join as long as we're in town. And the director knows that. I don't think he's going to expect perfection.
Anxiety Brain: But he knows your a music teacher. He's going to expect that you can sight read everything perfectly. And that you'll sound great.
Me: I bet I still sight-read better than most of the people here did when they first got the music who knows how long ago.
Anxiety Brain: But you have the gall to be singing soprano when you sound like that in warm-ups?
Me: So I'm rusty. I've barely sung for the last couple of months, and I haven't sung that high at least since before this calendar year. At least it means the choir gets to have more than one soprano for this rehearsal.
Anxiety Brain: If you screw up, you'll look like a totally incompetent music teacher. You'll ruin your reputation as a music teacher forever.
Me: (Sarcastically) Which totally matters when the only opinion that will change is that of a music teacher who lives in a different state, and on the side of the state opposite from where it borders my home state.
Anxiety Brain: But you're still totally freaked out that you're going to screw it up, aren't you?
Me: I'd say you have no idea, but-
Anxiety Brain: I really fully understand how totally terrified you are right now.
Me: Yep.


Saturday, July 21

Anxiety Brain: You just got reprimanded for having your phone out.
Me: Not like it was directed at me.
Anxiety Brain: Did anyone else have their phone out, though?
Me: No.
Anxiety Brain: They totally think you're horrible for not wanting to spend time with them. They're family. Now they think you're too stuck up to spend time with them.
Me: So I have a life that extends beyond this weekend. And I'm trying to figure out details for plans for the next week. And it's not my fault that the texts I tried sending this morning before we left on our family outing failed to send. I'm just trying to get them re-sent. It's not like I'm planning on spending the whole day on my phone. Just need to get a few messages sent, and then I'll be done. Waiting until Monday to figure out what the plan is for Monday just doesn't seem like a fantastic idea.
Anxiety Brain: So you're saying that your friends are more important than your family?
Me: If that were the case, I wouldn't have come at all. It's just been a rough week without spending any time with friends, and I'm trying to ensure that I don't wait too late to try to make plans only to find out that people are busy and then go another week without spending time with friends.
Anxiety Brain: You're a horrible person.
Me: I put the phone away as soon as I attempted sending the last text again.
Anxiety Brain: You're still a horrible person.
Me: I'm doing my best.
Anxiety Brain: Then why aren't you participating in the conversation?
Me: Because I literally have nothing to add. And I don't feel the need to talk if I have nothing valuable to add to the conversation.
Anxiety Brain: But they keep asking you to say something.
Me: I have nothing to say. And between you and the added pressure, I can't think straight enough to think of anything to say.
Anxiety Brain: Well, you'll be trapped in a vehicle with them for the next half hour, so you better figure it out.
Me: Or I could just be myself and sit and listen, and there's nothing wrong with that.
Anxiety Brain: You're being a bad family member. You should be talking to them. They just want you to be a part of things, you know.
Me: And when I have something to add to the conversation, I will.
Anxiety Brain: Not good enough.
Me: I'm so done with this level of pressure.
Anxiety Brain: Well you have to participate. You don't dare take out your phone as a distraction like you've done all week so far.
Me: So I'll stare out the window and tune everything else out until I feel okay enough to be a part of things again.
Anxiety Brain: That's not allowed either. You have to participate in the conversation. Otherwise you're a bad family member.
Me: See, this is why you and family gatherings really don't mix well
(After getting out of the vehicle)
Me: At least I can kind of get some space.
Anxiety Brain: Don't wander too far away. This is family time. You aren't allowed to be more than a few feet away from the rest of the family at any moment in time. Even if it is way too crowded at this bakery.
Me: Or I could step away from the main counter where I don't feel so closed in.
Anxiety Brain: So first you had your phone out to text your friends. Then you refused to talk to your family. And now you want to stand in a different aisle than the rest of them? You have got to be the worst family member in history.
Me: If I don't take space to breathe now, I'm not going to make it through the rest of this outing.
Anxiety Brain: See, it's all about you again.
Me: I seriously can't keep doing this.
Anxiety Brain: And don't you dare tell Person G why you're upset. Everyone else already thinks that you two are too closed off to the rest of the group.
Me: And what am I supposed to do when Person G asks me?
Anxiety Brain: Lie and say that you're fine in order to keep the rest of the group happy.
Me: And what about the fact that I'm not fine?
Anxiety Brain: Oh, don't you dare start crying. Really?
Me: Trying really hard not to. Not really working right now.
Anxiety Brain: Suck it up and deal with it. Your job this weekend is to make sure everyone else has a fantastic family weekend, and you have to be part of every moment of it.
Me: (Starts crying) Yeah, now is definitely a good time to step outside instead.
Anxiety Brain: So now you're ditching them completely? What a horrible family member.
Me: Just trying to pull myself together before I have to get back in a vehicle with them.
Anxiety Brain: Where you'll be trapped again, by the way. No escape. Just as a reminder that you can't keep falling apart like this in front of them. You're going to ruin their happy family weekend.
Me: Between you and them, I literally can't handle this much pressure.
Anxiety Brain: What is wrong with you? Suck it up and pull it together. You are a horrible family member!
Me: (Starts having a panic attack)
Anxiety Brain: You're really going to do this? In public. Pull it together before someone sees you and realizes what an incompetent adult you are.
Me: Not really my ideal location, either, but where else am I supposed to go? Because no way in hell am I going back inside.
Anxiety Brain: And now the rest of the family is coming outside. You're ruining their happy family outing. You're going to make them think that they're horrible people when really you're the horrible one. Which makes you an even more terrible family member.
Me: (Panic attack continues)
Anxiety Brain: See, now they're going to start changing their plans to accommodate you and this ridiculous tantrum you like to call a panic attack. And this weekend isn't about you, it's about the family.
Me: You are so not helpful right now (and the panic attack keeps going)
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Anxiety Brain: You aren't keeping up with the rest of the group.
Me: They don't like to read all the things. I like to read every single detail. They were warned.
Anxiety Brain: Well, either read faster or skip things and try to keep up.
Me: I'm pretty sure I'm the only one here who's only been to the Packer Hall of Fame once before. And didn't get through everything I wanted to then, either - mostly because I felt so rushed to keep up with the rest of the group. And it's not my fault I wasn't even born until well after at least two thirds of Packer history took place. And I want to learn things. I don't know all this stuff, and I'm trying to learn and get the most out of our limited time here.
Anxiety Brain: It's not about what you want. It's a family outing. You should be focusing on spending time with your family, not on learning things.
Me: You know, you're being so obnoxiously distracting that I can't even focus on what I'm trying to read, and I'm not retaining half of what I want to for more than a second, if even that.
Anxiety Brain: Even more reason to just give up and wander with the rest of the group instead of trying to go at your own pace.
Me: It's going to be a long afternoon...
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Anxiety Brain: You're a horrible dog owner.
Me: But he's been so good at coming when called lately. I don't know why he's suddenly decided to stop now that Person J is there dog-sitting.
Anxiety Brain: Because you're a horrible dog-owner and have never gotten him to consistently come when called.
Me: We're working on it.
Anxiety Brain: Not hard enough. You've had him for 6 years. If you were any good as a dog owner, you'd have him trained better by now.
Me: Have you seen how stubborn my dog is?
Anxiety Brain: You don't try hard enough.
Me: So I'm still working on it. Not like I've had anything else to try to accomplish over the last six years.
Anxiety Brain: You could have made it a priority.
Me: Well maybe this next year when I don't have roommates and therefore spend less time arguing with you over whether or not my roommates hate me, I'll have more time and energy to work with the dog again.
Anxiety Brain: You're a horrible dog owner. Person J is never going to dog sit for you again.
Me: I don't think that's true.
Anxiety Brain: You should just bring him with next time so that you're the only person who has to deal with what a failure of a dog owner you are.
Me: Except my dog super doesn't get along with the rest of the family dogs.
Anxiety Brain: Because you're a horrible dog owner.
Me: Or because adopting a rescue dog at age 2.5 years means having habits that are more ingrained and harder to break even with training.
Anxiety Brain: That sounds like you're just making excuses for being a horrible dog owner.
Me: I give up.

Week 9: July 8-14, 2018

Sunday, July 8

Anxiety Brain: There are law enforcement vehicles on the median.
Me: Yeah, I caught that.
Anxiety Brain: Barely.
Me: Earlier than I usually do!
Anxiety Brain: You're going too fast. You're going to get pulled over.
Me: I'm going within the generally accepted range above the speed limit.
Anxiety Brain: You're going to get pulled over.
Me: I think I would have seen flashing lights behind me by now.
Anxiety Brain: But you're still watching your rearview mirror, aren't you.
Me: Like a hawk.
Anxiety Brain: Make sure you're looking forward, too. Otherwise you're going to crash.
Me: Trying my best!
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Anxiety Brain: You are the only person in the room who's not wearing a dress.
Me: I noticed.
Anxiety Brain: What is wrong with you that you're not dressed up for this event?
Me: Every event of this type that I've been to before has been casual. I never even thought to dress up.
Anxiety Brain: And the white jacket was definitely a mistake.
Me: Yep. Poor choice. Didn't even think about it until I got here. At least it isn't all white - it has black streaks.
Anxiety Brain: And the gift you got totally doesn't fit in with the ones that everyone else got.
Me: It was on the registry. It still counts as a reasonable gift.
Anxiety Brain: Everyone is judging you.
Me: Quite likely.
Anxiety Brain: And you have to see all these people again multiple times this week.
Me: Yeah. Not sure I'm looking forward to that part of the week.
Anxiety Brain: Look at the bright side - you have time for about a million more possibilities to make a complete fool of yourself because you don't know what you're doing.
Me: I don't think that counts as a bright side.
Anxiety Brain: It's a bright side for me. It means I get about a million more possibilities to remind you how inept you are as an adult, or, you know, a human being in general.
Me: Your bright sides don't at all resemble my bright sides.
Anxiety Brain: Why? What do your bright sides look like?
Me: Realizing that even though this wasn't a particularly comfortable afternoon and evening, I'm apparently still in control of my nervous system right now. I don't feel like I need to run away. I don't feel physically ill. I don't feel like I'm going to burst into tears. I feel like an introvert who's spent the last few hours surrounded by people during which time I had a very minimal number of brief meaningful conversations and who is exhausted by that kind of activity. But I don't feel panicked. And I have no physical anxiety symptoms right now.
Anxiety Brain: Wait - how is it that you don't actually feel anxious right now? That makes no sense. You've never felt awkward and out-of-place without feeling physical anxiety symptoms before. In fact, usually the physical anxiety symptoms come first.
Me: I know. Apparently you're losing power in that battleground, too.
Anxiety Brain: I'm not convinced you can keep it up. You still have multiple gatherings this week that are larger than today's and that include even more unfamiliar people along with the ones from today. There's no way you manage to repeat the way you feel right now over half of the days this week.
Me: True. I don't know what will happen the rest of the week. But today is a huge triumph, and I'm going to spend the rest of the day celebrating it. Plus there are two scheduled times this week that I get to spend time with people whose company is energizing and confidence-boosting, and I choose to believe that the positive social time will more than make up for the social events that I'm more apprehensive about.
Anxiety Brain: That sounds like way too much social time. You should probably cancel some of that social time. And since the stuff you're nervous about is technically more important in the grand scheme of things, you should probably cancel one of the things with that group of people that I don't like as much.
Me: Nice try. There's no way that I'm cancelling those things. Just going to have to figure out how to focus on self care in the free time I do have.
Anxiety Brain: But we always start to cancel non-essential things when you're worried about a social event.
Me: Yeah, the only thing likely to get cancelled this week is the dog's overnight at my parents' on Friday, which would be more to my benefit than yours. Plus after last week and then today, I'm actually starting to trust that I've turned a corner and might start beating you more often.
Anxiety Brain: We could still go back to the old way. I have the perfect idea - we could have the argument about your packing and moving ineptitude again!
Me: Nope. Not today. Today I win.
Anxiety Brain: But I really think that if we talk about moving-
Me: Nope. Done. I win. You can try again tomorrow. Emphasis on the word try. Actually, why don't you wait until Tuesday. I get the feeling that tomorrow's going to be a good day, too.
Anxiety Brain: But-
Me: Nope. I'm done listening. We can talk again on Tuesday.


Monday, July 9

Me: Wait - when did you get control of my nervous system again. I mean, I've been slightly anxious since I woke up because lack of sleep combined with realistic dreams are so many levels of not helpful, but I was definitely not in fight-or-flight mode until this moment in time.
Anxiety Brain: Well, after yesterday you kind of let your guard down and became a much easier target again.
Me: So in trying to not let you run my life I actually made it easier for you to run my life.
Anxiety Brain: Pretty much.
Me: That is so many levels of not fair.
Anxiety Brain: Well, I feel like the fact that you keep hanging out with people I don't like is so many levels of not fair.
Me: That is so not the same thing.
Anxiety Brain: Either way, I have control of your nervous system.
Me: Fine. I'll breathe through it. I'll deal with it. I'll tolerate it. And as soon as I get there I'll be fine.
Anxiety Brain: Will you really, though?
Me: Last time it was great!
Anxiety Brain: Last time you were freaked out the entire time.
Me: It was a first, and it was new, and now it's not, and it's going to be fine.
Anxiety Brain: And how are you so sure of that?
Me: Because last time I was freaked out that I'd manage to do something to make Person G not want to be around anymore. And now Person G is aware of that, and I'm pretty sure if I haven't managed to scare them away yet, it's not going to happen.
Anxiety Brain: But are you really sure?
Me: Actually about 99% positive. Which is pretty impressive given that this is me.
Anxiety Brain: But are you really sure.
Me: You can keep asking that question, but my answer is still going to be the same.
Anxiety Brain: Well I still have control of your nervous system.
Me: That you do. But you won't for much longer. So even if you win right now, I get to win by the end of the day.
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Anxiety Brain: Are you sure you didn't say anything stupid today?
Me: Not as many stupid things as last time. Plus conversational flow was an actual thing. And I never ran out of things to say. In fact, there were many things that I wanted to say and respond to that just didn't make it out in the flow of conversation. Which is fine because there will be many more conversations to come.
Anxiety Brain: You complained too much, though. I think we should go back and remember all the times you complained so that you can feel guilty about every single one.
Me: Or we could not.
Anxiety Brain: I mean, if you're going to shut me down like last time, I'll just think of fun ways to make you explode again.
Me: No. Not going to shut you down completely. I'd rather not have the same kind of anxiety explosion that I did last time.
Anxiety Brain: So you're going to join me in going back and micro-analyzing your conversation for every time you complained?
Me: No I'm going to sit and listen to you and let you do your thing and then remind myself that it was fine and you tend to over-exaggerate what actually happened. I'll ride the wave until you get bored and go away.
Anxiety Brain: But you're too negative. And Person T doesn't like negative people. And if you don't listen to me, eventually they're not going to want to be friends with you.
Me: So positivity and optimism are things that I'm working on. I know that. I'm pretty sure that Person T knows that. And it's not going to end the friendship.
Anxiety Brain: But there was that time you said... (keeps talking)
Me: Just going to ride the wave, and remember that it was a great morning, and there's nothing to worry about.
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Anxiety Brain: See, Person B thinks that you should stop writing the blog about me, too.
Me: They never actually said that.
Anxiety Brain: But that really seems like what the conversation was implying, doesn't it?
Me: Yeah. Unfortunately.
Anxiety Brain: I told you that this blog was a bad idea. Especially because you're giving everyone the wrong idea about me.
Me: Pretty sure my therapist would disagree on that last part. And I like writing it down. It helps me process stuff.
Anxiety Brain: If the point is processing, why share it with the world?
Me: Well, for one, it helps me connect with other people who have anxiety issues. Because I like to think that there are people who can relate and are thankful to know that they're not alone. And because occasionally when I write about something I did or said that feels completely stupid, it's nice to get comments from other people who say that they've had some of those same experiences.
Anxiety Brain: But you share a lot of those things any time you talk to your friends who have anxiety issues. Why share it with the world?
Me: Because it's my own version of exposure therapy. Because when I feel too afraid to share the everyday struggles of dealing with you, both big and small, it's often hard to talk about it, especially with people that don't live it every day, and when I know they've read about it first, it's easier to have the real-life conversations, even if it's not about the big topics.
Anxiety Brain: That seems like the immature, passive-aggressive approach, doesn't it?
Me: Maybe. But sharing somehow has to be better than not sharing it all. And I try to keep it vague so that theoretically people can only be identified if they were there when it happened - if even that. And someday I'll get to the point where I can be a grown-up and have the scary conversations. But this is a step. I like to think that it's a good one.
Anxiety Brain: Person B doesn't seem to think so.
Me: Yeah, I know.
Anxiety Brain: Remember that time you shared stuff you wrote with Person C? And remember how Person C told Person D? And then it blew up in your face. Are you the sure that's not the same thing now with Person E? Maybe Person B is questioning you because Person E contacted them.
Me: Okay, 1) That thing with Person C is a topic we agreed to never, ever discuss-
Anxiety Brain: No. I never agreed. You just have had a lot of experience only half-listening to me and feeling awful until you find something distracting enough to forget what I was reminding you of.
Me: Whatever. Now, 2) This is 100% not the same thing because I was still a kid then, and I'm not now. We are all grown-ups
Anxiety Brain: But you're still kind of a kid to both Person B and Person E.
Me: Okay, that's something that you keep saying, but I really don't think that's how I'm viewed, at least not entirely.
Anxiety Brain: Are you really sure, though?
Me: Not really.
Anxiety Brain: Because, I mean, you kind of ruined things with Person C. And I don't think you want to do that with Person E. Unless you've already managed that one.
Me: Crap, what if I ruined things and am about to repeat the literal most-regretted mistake of my entire life?
Anxiety Brain: I mean, I kind of think that's what's happening.
Me: What if all the time I've spent this spring and summer trying to be open and being really proud of not hiding things any more was a massive mistake and no one actually likes this version of me and I should have just stayed isolated where it's safe.
Anxiety Brain: I'm just sayin'.
Me: But I kind of hated isolation.
Anxiety Brain: But what if people liked it better when you weren't around and built walls up around yourself? I mean, I really don't understand why people want you around in the first place.
Me: And we're back to that argument again, huh?
Anxiety Brain: Which one? We have so many.
Me: The one where I know exactly why I want other people in my life.
Anxiety Brain: Which is totally selfish.
Me: Because I have no clue why on earth they want me around.
Anxiety Brain: And friendship is a two-way street.
Me: I hate this argument.
Anxiety Brain: But it's one of my favorites.
Me: I should give up and retreat, shouldn't I?
Anxiety Brain: The world is generally better off that way. And it's a lot safer for you. When you isolate you don't run the risk of trusting people only to be burned.
Me: Which has happened before.
Anxiety Brain: A lot. Which is why not trusting them and keeping to yourself is safer.
Me: Safer, but not happier.
Anxiety Brain: But doesn't safety sound so much better than happiness?
Me: Maybe... Yeah... Unfortunately.
Anxiety Brain: So you're going to listen this time?
Me: I haven't quite decided yet.


Wednesday, July 11

Anxiety Brain: You haven't made enough progress on de-cluttering/organizing/packing.
Me: I know.
Anxiety Brain: You still have a crap load of stuff to complete.
Me: I know.
Anxiety Brain: Then why did you take a break?
Me: Because my brain was fried. It felt clogged, and I knew I'd be more efficiently productive if I gave it time to clear. And I'm about ready to get going again.
Anxiety Brain: But you're not going to be done by the time your roommates are home. And they're going to be mad at you.
Me: Quite possibly. But self care is a thing, and I've spent most of my waking hours the last two days - including a late night and an early morning - taking care of stuff around the house, and I needed a break.
Anxiety Brain: But you're not going to finish in time.
Me: Highly likely.
Anxiety Brain: And they're going to be frustrated with you for the fact that the house is still buried in your messes.
Me: Also highly likely.
Anxiety Brain: Now would be a good time to panic.
Me: Because that's productive.
Anxiety Brain: It would make me feel a lot better.
Me: But I'm almost ready to get started again. Panicking would keep me from getting stuff done.
Anxiety Brain: But you're not going to get done in time, and you need to take time to freak out about it. A panic attack seems fully appropriate right now.
Me: But I want to get started working again.
Anxiety Brain: Nope, I think it's panic attack time. Wait, what are you doing?
Me: Breathing.
Anxiety Brain: But that stops the panic attack from happening.
Me: Yep.
Anxiety Brain: That's no fun.
Me: Neither is the fact that I have to take time to do this instead of getting back to the de-cluttering/organizing/packing that needs to be done, so I guess we can both be annoyed, frustrated, and crabby.
Anxiety Brain: Not just us. Your roommates, too.
Me: Yeah, don't remind me.


Thursday, July 12

Anxiety Brain: Are you sure you didn't screw up the agenda?
Me: I've looked it over a bunch of times. I got the questions answered that I needed to. I think it's as ready to send as it's going to be.
Anxiety Brain: And you're sure you didn't miss anyone on the board contact list?
Me: You already made me triple check it. And I copy-pasted emails from an old board email, so there shouldn't be any typos.
Anxiety Brain: You're going to screw it up.
Me: There's only so much that can be screwed up about sending a meeting notice and a meeting agenda.
Anxiety Brain: Speaking of which, have you figured out what you're going to say in the email about calling the meeting? Because you're going to screw up that part even worse.
Me: I'm using previous meeting notice emails as a resource, so that should help. And, again, there's only so much that can be screwed up about sending a meeting notice and a meeting agenda.
Anxiety Brain: But it's your first one. You have to make a good first impression. If you mess it up, they're going to regret letting you be secretary.
Me: Pretty sure I have enough support from that group of people to be fine.
Anxiety Brain: You're going to screw it up.
Me: Too late. Email with attached agenda sent. Can't do anything about it now!
Anxiety Brain: We could worry about it now.
Me: Yeah, I have way to much to do today to spend it freaking out with you, so I'm going with the "I sent it. Can't do anything about it now!" attitude.
----------
Anxiety Brain: You could just go with option of meeting people at the start of the parade. You don't have to carpool over.
Me: Or I could be less stressed about parking and extra walking by making a phone call and saying that I want to carpool.
Anxiety Brain: But phones are scary.
Me: I'm well-aware of that fact. Which is why I've been putting off the phone call for the last few weeks.
Anxiety Brain: Then don't make it.
Me: I think I need to, though.
Anxiety Brain: But what if it's the wrong number?
Me: I copy-pasted it from the parade information in the email. Not my fault if it was their typo.
Anxiety Brain: But the wrong-number person would get upset.
Me: Going to make the call. Carpooling leaves way fewer question marks up in the air than driving myself.
Anxiety Brain: You could wait another hour. Or two. Or until it's too late to call. Wait - what did you just do?
Me: Hit the call button.
Anxiety Brain: Why? Make it stop!
Me: Too late now.
Anxiety Brain: Hang up!
Me: Nope.
Anxiety Brain: This is a bad idea.
Me: Hey, it went to voicemail! And this is the right number by the way.
(about a minute later)
Anxiety Brain: Your voicemail made no sense.
Me: Well, sometimes that's what happens when I try to talk to someone else and you won't leave me alone. Or it's possible that I'm just sleep-deprived. But I know I left my phone number very clearly.
Anxiety Brain: Are you sure you left the right phone number?
Me: Honestly, too sleep-deprived to remember any of it. But I did my part, and now I feel better, and I can wait to hopefully hear back, and if I don't, I'll just drive myself, but at least I tried.


Friday, July 13

Me: I need a break. I just need to take a few minutes to breathe.
Anxiety Brain: But there are other people in the house, including people who aren't your roommates who came over to help with wedding preparation stuff that you were too busy to help with. You're going to look like a horrible person if they came over to help with stuff while you're sitting around relaxing.
Me: I've been working since early this morning. I need a break.
Anxiety Brain: Just don't be surprised when they think that you're a horrible person.
Me: Self care is a thing, and that's what I'm doing right now.
Anxiety Brain: Or you could just work yourself into the ground. I mean, you'd feel like crap, but it'd be less of a crappy feeling than if everyone's mad at you for being a lazy bum who never helps with anything.
Me: And the last week of doing almost nothing but working to get the house in order has been what, then?
Anxiety Brain: You making it up for being a lazy bum for the last three years. If you did this stuff from day to day instead of putting it off, you wouldn't be in this mess.
Me: And if I didn't have to put up with you on a daily basis, doing this stuff day-to-day wouldn't have felt so nearly-impossible for the last three years.
Anxiety Brain: Well, the extra people in the house don't care. They just see that you're not helping.
Me: Maybe I'll just keep working until they go to run the errands I hear them talking about, and then I'll take the break.
Anxiety Brain: Well, as long as you're keeping up appearances. Though I'm still not convinced you should take a break.
Me: Yeah, the break is non-negotiable.
(A while later)
Me: Person X told me I should go take a nap.
Anxiety Brain: Person X doesn't know what they're talking about.
Me: But you sure seemed to think their opinion had value when you told me they thought I wasn't doing enough work.
Anxiety Brain: Well, that's when I thought they were on my side.
Me: Well, at least you admit it.
Anxiety Brain: You really shouldn't take a nap, you know.
Me: I'm not going to take a nap.
Anxiety Brain: Well finally you listen to me. Taking time away from getting the many wedding to-do list tasks done would lead to everyone hating you. What task are you going to take on now?
Me: Oh, I said I wasn't taking a nap. I didn't say I wasn't going to take a break. I'm going to take some time to work on writing until I need to hop in the shower. Because self care is a thing, and the house is currently quiet and non-chaotic, and I need to make the most of it while it lasts because as soon as more bridesmaids arrive and we head to the rehearsal dinner, there's not going to be a chance to recharge again. I need this time.
Anxiety Brain: Well, if you want people to hate you.
Me: You know, the people most likely to judge me aren't actually in the house right now, so I'm going to go with the view of what they don't know can't hurt me.
----------
Anxiety Brain: You know that conversation those girls are having about their significant others? About how the boys in their life procrastinate chores, or take multiple days to accomplish those chores, and how it drives the girls crazy? And how the boys just need to suck it up and be responsible and helpful and do things right away so that they can relax and recharge later, even if it's less time to relax and recharge? And how the girls are completely right about this topic, and the boys are frustratingly annoying for not just listening to the girls?
Me: Yeah, I caught that.
Anxiety Brain: That sounds a whole lot like you living in this house for the last three years.
Me: And that's why I'm trying really hard to ignore the conversation.
Anxiety Brain: What would they think if they knew that you were just as bad or worse than the men in their lives?
Me: There's a reason I'm not contributing to the conversation. I feel enough out-of-place in a house where I'm the only one who's not part of this pre-established tightly-knit group of friends without admitting some of my deepest insecurities to near-strangers. I mean, I know they seem super nice and all, but-
Anxiety Brain: But you know that if they knew you fell into this shared pet-peeve category of people that you really don't stand a chance at fitting in for the next 24 hours when you'll be around them pretty much constantly.
Me: Yep.
Anxiety Brain: You're a horrible person. This is why your roommates are looking forward to you moving out.
Me: I just have a different personality type. And I know that I can't do everything at once and I often need to take a break and get to tackling chores in my own time. I just don't generally get to do the "in my own time" part living with people who tend to do chores right away. I know what works best for me. It may not align with what works best for these girls, but I know what works best for me. And they're not the ones I'm living with.
Anxiety Brain: But they're friends with your roommates. And your roommates probably think the same thing. Which is what I've been telling you-
Me: All week. Actually, all year. And by the end of the summer I'll have my own place, and we can stop having this argument for a while.
Anxiety Brain: So let's make the most of this while we can. These girls would so totally judge you if they knew.
Me: Going to concentrate on painting my nails and try to block out their conversation now.
Anxiety Brain: Are you sure that's a good idea? Because these are some solid life lessons on getting people to like you.
Me: Nope. Going to tune out the conversation until the topic shifts.
----------
Me: It's really late. I really want to go to bed.
Anxiety Brain: But there are still wedding tasks to complete for tomorrow. And everyone else is still awake. They'll hate you if you go to bed early. And that's going to make for a super awkward day tomorrow.
Me: I have to get up extra early to bring the dog over to my parents' house. And I have to do it before our scheduled loading time so that they can fill my van with wedding stuff. No one else has to run an errand in the morning. I vote I get to go to sleep.
Anxiety Brain: But you chose that. You could have brought the dog over to your parents' house before the rehearsal tonight, and then you wouldn't have to get up early to bring him over.
Me: But I knew that I'd need puppy snuggle time to deal with a house full of unfamiliar people. And that I'm stressed out enough that I'll sleep like crap with out him here.
Anxiety Brain: Still, you made a choice.
Me: I've barely slept all week. And I'm tired. And I don't think I'll make it through the rest of the weekend unless I get sleep now.
Anxiety Brain: You haven't gotten much more sleep than the bride, and she's still up working, so you still have to be up working.
Me: Self care is a thing, and self care tells me I should get enough sleep otherwise you'll be particularly unbearable tomorrow.
Anxiety Brain: It's a wedding. A friend's wedding. Not your wedding. Tomorrow is about the bride and groom. It's not about you. So stop letting yourself think that anything you want is important.
Me: If I don't go to sleep soon, I get the feeling tomorrow will include at least one very public panic attack. Between the constant people time - mostly with people I don't know well - and the busy schedule and the chaos and the feeling clueless and out of place as the only girl in the bridal party who's never been a bridesmaid before, tomorrow is likely to include panic attacks and anxiety meltdown tears. And then it's really going to pull more focus onto me than on the bride and groom whose day it is. This is me trying to be a little selfish so that I don't unintentionally pull attention to myself tomorrow.
Anxiety Brain: They're so going to judge you if you go to bed know. And it's going to confirm all the things you roommates have probably told them about you not being a contributing member of the household.
Me: Which is why I'm sitting here annoyed that I'm not in bed yet but am still helping out with tasks until other people also decide that they're ready for sleep.


Saturday, July 14

Me: I am exhausted.
Anxiety Brain: I know. It makes for a great morning for me!
Me: I want to go back to bed.
Anxiety Brain: You have too many things to do this morning to go back to sleep.
Me: Which is why I'm awake and out of bed.
Anxiety Brain: Today's going to be a long day.
Me: That it is.
Anxiety Brain: And you're going to be surrounded by lots of unfamiliar people all day.
Me: That I am.
Anxiety Brain: And you're the only person in the bridal party who doesn't know how to be a bridesmaid.
Me: That is true.
Anxiety Brain: And you're too tired to fight me.
Me: You noticed that, huh?
Anxiety Brain: I'm really looking forward to the moment that the chaos gets to you, and you do something stupid, and then you have a panic attack in front of a bunch of people who don't understand it and think that you're a ridiculous mess.
Me: Can we please not? I don't want to mess up this day for Person V. They're one of my best friends in the world, and I don't need to add to their stress by being the bridesmaid having a panic attack and screwing everything up.
Anxiety Brain: But today has all the perfect ingredients for a very public panic attack.
Me: If I could just get some more sleep.
Anxiety Brain: Not an option.
Me: I know.
Anxiety Brain: The panic attack is going to happen. Or at least a lot of tears about how awful you are as a bridesmaid.
Me: Maybe if I can just find a little time to get some space by myself through the day.
Anxiety Brain: Today isn't about you. It's about Person V and Person W.
Me: I'm well aware. We already had this discussion. The one where I also told you that panic attacks and anxiety meltdown tears will do more to take attention off of Person V and Person W than my taking little breaks for the sake of my sanity.
Anxiety Brain: You are a terrible, horrible person for thinking you should do anything for yourself on a day that isn't about you.
Me: It's going to be a long day...
----------
Me: I look awesome. I need pictures to record how awesome I look today.
Anxiety Brain: Today isn't about you.
Me: But I never take a moment to appreciate how great I look, and today I look great.
Anxiety Brain: You're so self-absorbed.
Me: It's not like I'm flaunting it. I just want picture record. Especially of the hair. Because I haven't gotten my hair professionally styled since Person J's birthday parties at the cosmetology school when we were in elementary school. And I'm excited about how it turned out. And the stylist was excited about how it turned out. And I want picture record of it. And I want to share it.
Anxiety Brain: But today isn't about you. You're only allowed to post things about the bride and groom. Or maybe something with the other members of the bridal party.
Me: But I'm not close enough to anyone in the bridal party to ask to take pictures with them. That would be awkward. So, selfies. And maybe some assistance in getting pictures of the hair.
Anxiety Brain: Again, today isn't about you. You're so self-absorbed.
Me: So when I get around to posting pictures online, I'll do something about the wedding and how excited I am to be celebrating with the bride and groom - which is totally true - and then I'll post something later about how awesome I look today. Because I want to share both parts.
Anxiety Brain: People are going to hate you.
Me: Or maybe they'll also appreciate me looking awesome. Which I do.

Week 8: July 1-7, 2018

Sunday, July 1

Anxiety Brain: You're wearing flip-flops.
Me: Yep.
Anxiety Brain: To church. A church you've only been to one other time. Where you don't know the dress code yet.
Me: It's raining, and none of my dress shoes are really rain-worthy. Plus I'm also wearing a teacher outfit which is a step up from what I usually wear to church on Sundays, so I vote I get to wear flip-flops.
Anxiety Brain: Speaking of which, that top dips kind of low in the back, and you're wearing your hair up. This is just a recipe for disaster.
Me: It'll be fine. Nothing is showing that shouldn't be. And who's really going to be looking at me anyway, especially if I just pick a spot and stay there? (Walks into the sanctuary)
Anxiety Brain: Well it turns out that the first Sunday of the month is communion Sunday. Which means you'll have to get out of your spot. So you were saying?
Me: (Spends the entirety of worship trying not to feel super self-conscious and feeling guilty for being so distracted by feeling super self-conscious)
----------
Me: Hey, I think that's Person G.
Anxiety Brain: The assistant principal from one of your schools last year - the one that you really liked?
Me: Yeah, that one. I kind of love that she's one of the favorite school administrators that I've ever worked with and also happens to go to the new church that I like. Maybe I should catch her and say hi.
Anxiety Brain: You don't think that would be weird?
Me: No. I get the feeling she'd be excited to say hi. At least that's always how she responded when we managed to run into each other in the hallway at school the limited time that I worked in that building each week.
Anxiety Brain: But what if she asks how long that you've been attending here? Or if you're planning on staying? Because you aren't really planning on sticking around if you move. And do you really want to have to explain all that? Or the fact that you haven't really had a consistent church to attend prior to now?
Me: Maybe not. But I still think it might be fun to say hi.
Anxiety Brain: But you won't be able to say hi without having to answer all the other questions.
Me: That's probably true.
Anxiety Brain: And seeing as she and her husband just sat down not far from you, you should probably make sure to not look that direction just to be sure that she doesn't also see you and want to say hi.
Me: I'll listen to your logic for this week. But if I see her again next week, I'm going to say hi.
Anxiety Brain: I'll keep working on that for next week, then.
Me: We'll have to see about that. Lately when I make a determined choice to go against your advice, I usually win out.
----------
Anxiety Brain: You're really going to post this one?
Me: Yep.
Anxiety Brain: Pretty sure Person T is going to actually hate you this time.
Me: I had that thought. That thought is why I almost didn't post it. Except remember back when I wrote that "I am a Duck" post and talked about how living with anxiety follows the duck metaphor - calm on the surface but paddling like crazy underneath to stay afloat - and that I needed to share both sides to stay sane. Person T is the one who responded, "Show us all the sides, we will swim with you." Last week you did a pretty good job of convincing me to not show the "paddling like crazy" side and I felt alone and isolated, and I'm done. I'm showing both sides.
Anxiety Brain: I don't think Person T knew what they were getting themselves into back then.
Me: Quite possibly. But for now I choose to trust that it's going to be okay.
Anxiety Brain: Because that turned out so well for you last week.
Me: Speaking of last week - browsing through my old posts to find the exact response to the "I am a Duck" post turned out to be useful in more ways than one.
Anxiety Brain: Really, now. How so?
Me: The invite wasn't a mistake.
Anxiety Brain: So you caught that one, huh?
Me: Wish I'd caught it again on Wednesday night when you first changed my mind again.
Anxiety Brain: Well, at least I got an extra 4 days out of that one.
Me: So I get to remember that as a good thing again?
Anxiety Brain: I suppose. I've got plenty of other ammo to work with from later in the week last week anyway.
Me: After what the last four days have been like, I'll take a win where I can get one.
(A while later)
Me: So, it turns out that Person T doesn't hate me after reading the post.
Anxiety Brain: Really? Because I was sure that this one would scare them off.
Me: Turns out not. Turns out there's still mostly just support and encouragement.
Anxiety Brain: I just don't understand how that happened.
Me: Frankly, I'm surprised myself. But also happy. And the most calm I've felt in a really, really long time.
Anxiety Brain: I have to re-think everything about my whole approach here now. I just don't understand how I could have been this level of wrong. I'm going to have to take some time to regroup. It's really back to the drawing board this time.
Me: Yeah, you go work. Take as much time as you need. In the meantime, I'm going to enjoy some uninterrupted time letting myself feel happy and relaxed for a while.
----------
Anxiety Brain: Person K just initiated a conversation with you.
Me: I know - weird, right?
Anxiety Brain: When's the last time that happened?
Me: Months. Pretty sure it's been months.
Anxiety Brain: Weren't we pretty sure they didn't like you anymore?
Me: I mean, I really don't know how much of that was you and how much of that was actual reality, but, yeah, we were pretty sure.
Anxiety Brain: I'm so confused.
Me: Same. Very confused. But also pleasantly surprised. This is going to make the next month or two much less awkward than the last few months have been.
Anxiety Brain: I'm just losing all sorts of battles today.
Me: It appears that way.
Anxiety Brain: I actually have to search out some new battlegrounds, don't I? I mean, these have been my two primary battlegrounds for a while now, and somehow I lost both of them in just a few hours' time.
Me: Go. Search. I'll just be over here actually being able to enjoy life for a little while.
Anxiety Brain: Today just is not my day...


Tuesday, July 3

Anxiety Brain: There are an unusually large number of oblivious people at the arena today.
Me: Yep. Not so much a fan. I mean, it's a holiday week, so we've probably got a lot of out of town fans, so I get it. But definitely still annoyed.
Anxiety Brain: They just have no concept of personal space, do they?
Me: Not that it's intentional - just that they're too lost and oblivious to notice that they're way too close to my personal bubble.
Anxiety Brain: You could scream at them.
Me: (Sarcastically) Because that would be effective.
Anxiety Brain: You could just start pushing people out of the way. That would be effective.
Me: Maybe if I was, like, 5, and even then it would still get me into trouble.
Anxiety Brain: I'm just saying, I don't urge you toward the "fight" side of fight-or-flight very often, but if there was ever a time for it, it would be now.
Me: No thanks.
Anxiety Brain: What are you going to do with all the built-up tension, then?
Me: Hold it in until I explode, hopefully in a more socially acceptable way.
Anxiety Brain: That doesn't sound any healthier than my suggestion.
Me: But it isn't going to get me ushered out by security, so I'll take my way.
Anxiety Brain: Just don't get mad at me when you inevitably snap at someone who doesn't deserve it later.
Me: (Sarcastically) You are so helpful...
----------
Anxiety Brain: Pretty sure you've thrown away about four garbage bags full of old, expired food at this point.
Me: It wasn't all mine. The Roommate threw stuff away, too.
Anxiety Brain: But most of it was yours.
Me: Fine, most of it was mine.
Anxiety Brain: Do you know how badly people would judge you if they knew how much food you waste?
Me: And constantly feeling guilty for wasting it is why it's four bags at once instead of gradually, like a normal person.
Anxiety Brain: Or you could, you know, just eat the food before it expires.
Me: Says the one who tries to convince me that I shouldn't eat when I'm stressed out because according to you choosing not to eat will help me believe that I actually have some sense of control over my life.
Anxiety Brain: Then stop buying food. It's not like you can afford groceries on a part-time salary anyway.
Me: I'm told that food is actually essential to live.
Anxiety Brain: Fine, buy it and be stressed out about money. And then feel guilty when you don't eat it. And guiltier about wasting it. But make sure that you don't share any of this with anyone because they're so going to judge you.
Me: And this is why it's taken me years to convince myself to clean out all the old food.
Anxiety Brain: Shouldn't you have actually made sure to dump the food and recycle the containers? You're the reason the environment is in so much danger, you know.
Me: And here comes the other argument that has kept me from this task so long...


Wednesday, July 4

Anxiety Brain: Wow, you've posted a lot this evening.
Me: Yeah... I didn't really mean to. I was doing so well the rest of the day.
Anxiety Brain: This is why people don't like you. You annoy them with over-posting on social media.
Me: Not sure that you're right on that one. Anyway, I blame this on the fact that I haven't had enough quality people time for a couple of days.
Anxiety Brain: And you wonder why you've not had enough people time this week? Because I really think that this over-posting issue is one of the root causes.
Me: Or because it's a holiday week, and since I tend to avoid holidays like the plague due to the overwhelming pressure to fulfil people's expectations for how to act on holidays, I have no plans when everyone else does.
Anxiety Brain: Yeah, sure. And how are you going to feel tomorrow morning when you wake up and realize that no one cares about anything you posted tonight which is a clear sign that they don't want to be friends you anymore because of your over-posting?
Me: I could remember that they're doing holiday things rather than spending time on social media. And if I lose friends over something like this, are they really people I wanted to have as friends in the first place?
Anxiety Brain: Do you really want to have the "Are they really people you wanted to have as friends in the first place?" conversation right now? Because I can remind you that if you said that about all the people that you annoy on a regular basis, you'd lose basically all of your most-valued friends, if not all your friends period. Except maybe the people who are related to you, and even that's questionable in some cases.
Me: You're right. I don't want to have that conversation. That was a really poor choice of counter-arguments on my part. Let's go back to the over-posting argument instead because at least I might still manage to still sleep tonight after that one.
Anxiety Brain: So long as we're arguing, I'll take it. Now, about that last thing you posted...


Thursday, July 5

Anxiety Brain: You haven't packed enough today. Actually, you haven't packed enough in general.
Me: My brain feels too clogged to pack. Also, I've had at least one of the two roommates home basically the entirety of the last few days, and when they've been gone it's not been long enough for me to both get you to shut up about how the roommates are judging me and my packing ineptitude and then clear my brain well enough to feel like I can think straight enough to actually pack things in a way that's going to make sense and not drive me crazy in not knowing where things are through the whole moving process.
Anxiety Brain: You're still not getting enough done.
Me: I'm getting it done in my own time and at my own pace. I'm not going to spend 24/7 on the verge of a panic attack because I'm pushing myself too hard to get things done at a pace that I can't keep up with.
Anxiety Brain: That's what you said before the last move. And then on moving day you didn't have enough things packed and ready to go. And it was a disaster because not only did you not have a clue where anything wound up but everyone who came to help hated you for your completely inefficient moving process. Which resulted in-
Me: Oh, I remember the panic attack on the kitchen floor when I was supposed to be driving across town with everyone else. And the extra guilt and anxiety for not being more helpful to the people who came to help. You really don't need to remind me.
Anxiety Brain: I'm still pretty sure the only reason any of them are still speaking to you is because you were related to all of them.
Me: Yeah, I'm unfortunately still pretty convinced that you're right about that one.
Anxiety Brain: And none of them are going to help you with this move. I wouldn't bother asking.
Me: I mean I have newer friends that I could ask - if, you know, I get the nerve to say something instead of feeling like we haven't been friends long enough to ask them for help...
Anxiety Brain: Not to mention the time that you sat at a table with some of them and listened to them express their frustrations about that one time they helped someone with an unorganized move that sounded a whole lot like your last one.
Me: Trying so hard to forget that.
Anxiety Brain: If you're going to ask people for help, you really need to make sure that you don't have another move like that one.
Me: Oh, I'm well-aware. Or I've kind of half-considered just not asking for help.
Anxiety Brain: And do you want to explain that to Person N who's been telling you for a while now that you need to start asking people to help you move?
Me: Not really.
Anxiety Brain: Not that actually asking people is any better.
Me: I mean, to be honest, I have enough people that I want around at this point, I actually kind of want to ask for the moving help. I mean, I actually have some solid sets of people that I just want to share life with. And moving is a part of life, and I'd weirdly love for them to be part of it. Given, actually asking them is a whole different story...
Anxiety Brain: Because they might not actually like you enough to want to help.
Me: Yep.
Anxiety Brain: And even if they agree to help, they probably won't like you by the end of the moving day.
Me: Also, yep.
Anxiety Brain: Well you should probably start packing more, then.
Me: I know.
Anxiety Brain: But don't screw it up.
Me: I know.
Anxiety Brain: Then why aren't you doing anything?
Me: Because I just spent all the energy and time I had today arguing with you about how my packing and moving ineptitude is going to make people hate me.
Anxiety Brain: Well, we needed to have the conversation because, you know, the last time you moved...
Me: And here we go again.


Saturday, July 7

Me: This feels like a paralyzing anxiety kind of morning. Why are we having a paralyzing anxiety kind of morning?
Anxiety Brain: Well, first of all, you have to decide which people you want to hate you so you know who you're going to ask to help you move-
Me: Yeah, we are so not having that conversation again this week. I need a break.
Anxiety Brain: Then how about the fact that you have to write and send your first agenda as board secretary?
Me: Actually, I'm kind looking forward to working on that. I mean, I took on the secretary role, but this is the first time I've really had to do something. It's weirdly fun and exciting.
Anxiety Brain: You're going to screw it up.
Me: It's an agenda. How badly can I really screw it up?
Anxiety Brain: I don't know. It's not like we've done one of these before. But that's why you're clearly going to screw it up. Because you have no clue what you're doing.
Me: I'll figure it out. I'll compare it to previous ones. I'm sure it will be fine.
Anxiety Brain: You have to email people.
Me: But they're expecting me to email them these kinds of things. It's my job as secretary. This is not an intimidating email to send.
Anxiety Brain: Sure. And how many mental drafts have you written already?
Me: Probably half a dozen.
Anxiety Brain: And how many more do you intend to write before actually sending the email?
Me: At least half a dozen.
Anxiety Brain: You don't know what you're doing.
Me: Isn't half of being an adult having no clue what you're doing but trying your best anyway?
Anxiety Brain: You're going to screw it up.
Me: It'll be fine.
Anxiety Brain: What if you miss someone on the email?
Me: That's why I'm creating an organization tool to make sure that doesn't happen.
Anxiety Brain: What if you miss someone you didn't know was supposed to get it? Or what if you send it to someone who wasn't supposed to get it?
Me: Well, things I don't know are honest mistakes. And there may be some growing pains the first couple of months, but that's probably part of the reason they shift board roles a year before the next show, so that people who are new have time for a learning curve. Also, it's sending out a meeting notice and agenda. How hard could it actually be?
Anxiety Brain: You're going to screw it up.
Me: It'll be fine.
Anxiety Brain: No it won't. You're going to screw it up.
Me: You know, how about instead of sitting hear listening to you, I actually get working on it? Because, seriously, this is something I can totally handle.