I’m stuck. That’s my conflict. I’m so incredibly stuck. I’m in a place in my recovery where I’m taking one step forward and two steps back. I’m disappointed to say how much I have been struggling lately because of how much I thrive off of the support by blog gets. Every time I feel down, have an anxiety attack, slip-up, or say a negative thought, I think of my small group of fans who commit to reading my blog every single time I publish a post. I feel ashamed to sit here and type these motivational posts when I cannot even stay true to them myself.
I’m stuck in between determine whether or not I need to go back on my anxiety medicine, but I don’t want to give in and say that I can’t do it on my own. It all goes back to “the first signs of anxiety” ; trouble falling asleep because my mind moves a million miles a minute, trouble focusing, panic attacks. It’s hard for me to watch myself slowly deconstruct again. I can’t find something to hold on to. I’m reaching, and I’m reaching, and I’m reaching, just for a hand, or a bar, or something to latch my shaky hands onto, but all I find is a fistful of doubt and disappointment. That’s what’s hard about anxiety, not knowing when it’s going to flare, not knowing when you’re going to break down, and not knowing the next time you’re going to feel yourself genuinely smile.
My blog name, “Confidence to Commitment” was the first name I could think of when creating this page nearly a year ago, but I’ve never really explained it to my readers. Through my anxiety, I’ve struggled with these two aspects the most, confidence and commitment. Although I’ve finally found a sense of satisfaction in my body and my appearance, I struggle to feel confident when in a room of people. I can sing my heart out on stage and play any part I’m asked to do, but the second I’m asked to truly be myself in front a group of people, it’s the most gruesome and painful thing you could ask me to do. Anyone who knows me experiences my bubbly and loud personality, but seldom understand how difficult it is for me to be myself in more than just a small group of close friends. Although I’m confident in my sexuality, I constantly worry about what my father will think of my outfit of the day, or what people I run into in public places will think of the feminine qualities of my persona. Commitment, is my biggest fear, because I rarely find someone, whether it’s a friendship, relationship, or family tie, that I feel comfortable and safe around. I’ve been hurt too much to just throw myself into something that I don’t know the outcome of. I strive to be that boy, that boy who can just fall in love without questioning what’s going to happen if this happens, or what’s going to happen if that happens. I abandon most of my relationships because of how fearful I am of being left alone without someone to latch on to. What’s so ironic about my issues with commitment is how I destroy any chance at commitment I have because of my fear of it. This blog bloomed because of my constant battles with anxiety. It’s so hard for me to continue typing because of my anxiety, my fear of what my readers may think, my fear of letting the world know how shaky I am with recovery and with dealing with my anxiety, my fear of not being accepted.
There’s this stigma that surrounds anxiety, this stigma that says WE (the person suffering through anxiety) control it. I wish I could explain how much I desire for my anxiety to be controllable. The nights I’ve sat on my bedroom floor, sprawled out, wondering what the hell was wrong with me, the mornings I wake up after just falling asleep minutes ago because of a night filled with haunting thoughts of WHAT COULD happen. This stigma is what leaving anxiety an open door, a vast majority of the population are unfamiliar with how devastating anxiety can truly be. I’m opening my mind and soul to this blog post because of how unbelievably incorrect this stigma is.
My anxiety is such a horrifying yet beautiful experience on a daily basis. I am watching myself break down more and more every day, yet I am aware of what is breaking me down. I’m dry heaving, I’m sobbing, I’m shaking, but I’m learning, I’m realizing, and I’m understanding. Anxiety is something that I honestly cannot control, but it’s something that I know I can learn to control.I know I’m human, I know I make mistakes, and I know I’m not the only one out there. I’m nervous to release this post about my anxiety because of the vulnerability that is shows, but telling the exploring the process of recovery through venting and blogging is the most incredible experience. My story of anxiety isn’t anything out of the ordinary, but it’s mine. I encourage you to send me your stories of anxiety, recovery, depression, or anything you desire to tell me and join this battle- this battle of mental illness, let’s take this down, together. We are So Worth Loving.
I truly want to hear from you.
jshepherd637@gmail.com
I am ALWAYS here to lend a helping hand, and can also use one, please, let’s do this together.
Confidence to Commitment 