Everybody feels anxious from time to time. Most of us can cope while the feeling is there and it soon passes, as soon as the cause goes away or you come to terms with it.
I, like lots of people, have anxiety disorder. It's quite common and I suspect many people have it and don't realise. The disorder results in feelings of mild anxiety for quite normal everyday things and feelings of unbearable anxiety for anything that most people would get anxious about.
I think I've always had it but I was diagnosed a few years ago following a bout of depression that was caused mainly by being unemployed during the recession. In many cases, and for a case such as mine, which doesn't usually affect me so seriously that I can't get through everyday tasks, the most common treatment is Cognitive Behavioural Therapy. My CBT therapist taught me what happens to my body when I'm anxious and how that makes what's going on in my mind worse. The therapy is not a cure, it's designed to help to develop strategies to counter it and can be so effective for some people that they are able to almost eradicate the symptoms most of the time.
It didn't work quite that well for me. I have developed coping stragies that got me through bullying at school; periods of crippling self-doubt; bouts of depression and unemployment. But I think those strategies might be unhelpful in the long term. I can't really describe what those strategies are: there are many of them and they're woven into every thought and every action. But I know I have some sort of blockage in my information processing that stops other techniques that might be better in the long term from being successful.
If I have anything stressful on the horizon, even months away, I can't put it out of my mind. When there are several things all at once, I'm constantly on edge. At those times, I find it very hard to enjoy anything and have to distract myself every few minutes just to get through the days. I can't watch stressful films, or sad films or sad tv programmes. I'm on edge all the time and would cry frequently if it was socially acceptable.
Recently, I've been dealing with the following:
Moving house
Baby on the way
Recent job change that means more responsibility, a heavier workload and learning lots of new difficult tasks.
Add to that learning to drive and something has to give.
I had lessons when I was young but never passed my test. I was told the theory test was easy and that I didn't need to revise for it and I failed it. I then lost my wallet containing my provisional licence. I was also at University and didn't really have the money to continue lessons. 16 years later, my wife and I are expecting a baby and finally I have to stop the excuses (cars are too expensive to run; lessons are too expensive; I don't need to drive) and get driving.
Ahead of my first test, I feared it for weeks but had the distraction of a house move to stress about. Minutes before I wanted to burst out crying and run away. Despite this, I'd learned well and should have passed. My instructor was livid after the debrief: he couldn't believe how strict the examiner had been. I'd been near perfect: 5 faults. The "serious" faults were apparently moving into a right-hand lane too early for a junction (I'd seen the sign; there was a hill brow I couldn't see over; I'd never driven up that road before) and a slightly rubbish bay park, yet I ended up neatly in the bay having straightened up twice.
Today I had my second attempt and the outcome of the first (if I failed that one, how could I ever pass?) was eating at my mind and spirit. I did what I could to focus and calm my mind but I cocked it up. 8 faults; one serious. It was a fair decision - I knew I'd failed after 10mins yet apparently the law forces me to go through the remainder of the test, just to make failure that bit more drawn out.
I haven't told friends or family about my lessons or tests but I do want them to know why I don't have a licence. They won't read this but getting my thoughts out here might help me to speak to them. I'm a failure. A pariah. I know that part of the reason is my struggle against debilitating anxiety but although I can tell myself that, instead of cutting myself a break, it just makes me feel even more pathetic.
So if you read this and think I just need to pull myself together, or get a grip, you can relax. I have far more disdain for myself than you could ever muster.
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