Hello…Anxiety

I knew I suffered from anxiety long before I sought out treatment. I’ve posted before about how once I began my medicine I went to my doctor in tears wondering why I had allowed myself to suffer for so long. So the question is, why had I suffered for so long?

I never left voicemail.  Growing up if my mom would ask me to call someone I’d protest but eventually give in, but if there was no answer I would not leave a voicemail.  I’d quickly hit the [END] button as if the voice on the other end was going to suck my soul out. See I have an extreme anxiety of starting conversations. Phone calls were the absolute worse, especially back in the days of home telephones. I’d dread the wrong person answering and even hang up sometimes.  If someone asked me to call them back I’d require an EXACT time and tell them to MAKE SURE they had the phone and even then I would still be terrified.  Often I’d have my sister make the call and get the correct person on the phone. (Thank you Rachel ❤ )

It seems so minor right? Like why could’t you make phone calls? I DO NOT KNOW. I just couldn’t. I hated it. Dreaded it. I would prevent myself from getting the proper care and help I needed because of it.  Because it requires a phone call to schedule an appointment.  It requires a phone call to check your benefits.  It requires a phone call to do just about anything anymore.

There was a time when I was a struggling, single mother and I desperately needed help with common things. Groceries, bills, housing, etc. Everyone said “reach out to so and so” or “call this place” or “go here” not knowing that the REACH OUT, GO, and CALL were all things that I was not capable of doing. Maybe it was because whenever I did reach out I met so much resistance. Things were not simple back then, everything required tons of paperwork and it wasn’t ever clearly spelled out how to accomplish things.

I don’t know what gave me the will to finally speak up.  I was at an everyday appointment with my doctor, I’m pretty sure I was there for my goiter as my OB/Gyn required me to do.  I mentioned my problems. She mentioned medication. I wanted to say no, I wanted to protest, but I knew that I had tried everything in my arsenal without success. With tears I said yes, but I made sure to say, “just for a short while–I’ll never rely on them”.  And here we are. Mentally healthy as ever. On medication. Post therapy. Practicing mindfulness. Moving on in life. Oh and I can leave voicemail now 🙂

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