Would The Real Slim Shady Please Stand Up

(Last week, Bell Let's Talk shared my blog on their twitter page! So shout out to all the people who are reading now because of that. It's pretty neat that more people are seeing this now. Cheers, enjoy)

One of the things I struggle with the most is that I don't know if I can distinguish between me and my anxiety. By this, I mean that I am unsure of which of my personality characteristics are mine and mine alone, and which have only developed because of my anxiety. Further, which parts of me maybe played a role in the development of my anxiety. Essentially, I don't really know who I am or why I am who I am - in fact, I've not got a clue.

"Me on the outside: *calm*
Me on the inside: AHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHAAAHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHAA" - Beth Evans

Ok, let me try and explain.

I'm a very binary thinker. To me, all things need to fit in to a category. They are either part of Category A, or Category B, etc. Very similar to my proficiency for over-planning things, I have a knack for over-organization. It's a very black and white way to look at the world - I'm not very good at seeing the shades of grey. Within this, and considering the fact that I spend so much time inside of my own head, I try and classify the different parts of me into arbitrary binary categories: ME and THE ANXIETY. 

This leads me down little tirades of trying to determine which parts of me are anxiety-produced and which are genuine traits that I have had my whole life. Do I only plan things because of my anxiety, or is that just a me thing? Is my creativity rooted in the anxiety or is that something that I am able to claim as my own? Do I have a tendency to worry, or is that just my anxiety? Did I worry this much before I got anxiety? When is 'before'? Was there a before?

Artist Unknown

There's so many aspects to this that I'm actually struggling to figure out how to write about it.

On one hand (this person is going to have many hands, so be prepared), I am trying to control the symptoms of my anxiety, but I don't know what all they are and how they affect me all the time and how controlling them will change who I am and that scares me. It's also very hard to control something that you don't understand.

On another hand, I have this weird sense of self-confidence lately and I'm proud of the effort that I put in to myself, and I don't know if working to accept my anxiety will change that, nor do I know if controlling my anxiety more will slowly eliminate parts of me that I have grown quite fond of.

On a third hand, I genuinely have anxiety about whether or not I have anxiety - essentially I convince myself that I'm just making it all up and everyone else has the same issues as me and that I'm 'normal' and so I don't really have any personality traits that are shaped by anxiety because I'm making it up. Maybe everyone is this way and trying to 'fix' it all is just futile and a waste of time because this is the best that it gets. This thought makes me especially sad on my worst days.

On a fourth hand that is closely related to the third hand, I don't know if I know what 'normal' is, or if I'll like it, so the idea of taking certain aspects of myself away, or trying to change and reshape them is a bit nerve-wracking. What if the only neat parts of me are a side effect of this shitty little voice in my head and I'll just be completely vanilla otherwise? Is that bad? Is it good?

What it really all comes down to is this: I am who I am, and part of that is that I have anxiety. I will always have anxiety, but I will also get better at controlling the symptoms and not letting them control me. There is no way to distinguish between me and the anxiety because we are one and the same. Really, I guess I know who I am. I just struggle with who I am. Part of accepting anxiety is accepting myself. Accepting that this is a part of me, and I can choose to grow the parts that I like and work at accepting the parts that I can't.

"I am good for a while
I'll talk more, laugh more
Sleep and eat normally
But then something happens
Like a switch turns off somewhere
And all I am left with is the darkness of my mind
But each time it seems like I sink
Deeper and deeper
And I am scared...
Terrified that one day I won't make it back up
I feel like I am gasping for air
Screaming for help
But everyone just looks at me
With confused faces
Wondering what I am struggling over
When they're all doing just fine
And it makes me feel crazy

What the hell is wrong with me?"
                                              -m.h