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Personal: An Unpleasant Realization
15 years ago
I’ve long known that I am, as the euphemistic saying goes, “high-maintenance”. What I did not understand fully until recently is exactly why. Depression? Oh, yes, that’s been painfully obvious for quite a while. Hiding under it, though, is . . . generalized anxiety disorder. Yay!
Reading up on it was quite a revelation, especially when it came to the laundry list of physical symptoms, some of which I never in a thousand years would have connected with anxiety. I mean, difficulty swallowing? What the hell? But there it is.
I suspect I know where it originated in my childhood—and no, it has nothing to do with my parents, thank you. I dug that hole all by myself. But, at least on an emotional level, that and subsequent experiences have defined in my personal dictionary the word “responsibility” as “the best and fastest way to get into serious irreparable trouble.” The greater the responsibility, the worse the reaction, and moreso if it is not coupled with concomitant authority.
As long as I’m on familiar ground where my skills and knowledge are solid and unquestionable, I’m fine and even happy. Straying outside that comfort zone to handle anything new and unfamiliar, financially significant, or involving management of other people, generates disproportionate stress. Pile it on and the stress can soar to nearly unbearable heights. That description is not hyperbole; it is quite literal. Yes, that means what you probably think it means.
Certainly this explains my bafflement at the blithe exhortations of artistic and business advisors to “stretch” oneself. Why on Earth would I want to do that? It will only end in tears. Better to move incrementally, starting with low-risk moves and building slowly from there. I don’t want to “stretch”; I want an adequate living and a comfortable life.
It also may be a major contributor to my, um, lack of romantic success in life: both failed relationships and an utter lack of them over the last fifteen-plus years. That’s more hazy, since I don’t have as much data from which to draw conclusions. Still, it’s suggestive that my normal response to stress is to withdraw socially, and even when I make the effort I have a truly horrendous time trying to “meet girls”.
Why am I even bothering to maunder on about this in a public venue? In part, it’s because, for me, the best way to examine my own thoughts, and possibly to exorcise my own demons, is to write them down, and Fur Affinity is a convenient place to do that. In part, it’s to provide a public service, however minor; if even one person recognizes similar signs in him- or herself and is encouraged to take action, that will make it worthwhile.
Reading up on it was quite a revelation, especially when it came to the laundry list of physical symptoms, some of which I never in a thousand years would have connected with anxiety. I mean, difficulty swallowing? What the hell? But there it is.
I suspect I know where it originated in my childhood—and no, it has nothing to do with my parents, thank you. I dug that hole all by myself. But, at least on an emotional level, that and subsequent experiences have defined in my personal dictionary the word “responsibility” as “the best and fastest way to get into serious irreparable trouble.” The greater the responsibility, the worse the reaction, and moreso if it is not coupled with concomitant authority.
As long as I’m on familiar ground where my skills and knowledge are solid and unquestionable, I’m fine and even happy. Straying outside that comfort zone to handle anything new and unfamiliar, financially significant, or involving management of other people, generates disproportionate stress. Pile it on and the stress can soar to nearly unbearable heights. That description is not hyperbole; it is quite literal. Yes, that means what you probably think it means.
Certainly this explains my bafflement at the blithe exhortations of artistic and business advisors to “stretch” oneself. Why on Earth would I want to do that? It will only end in tears. Better to move incrementally, starting with low-risk moves and building slowly from there. I don’t want to “stretch”; I want an adequate living and a comfortable life.
It also may be a major contributor to my, um, lack of romantic success in life: both failed relationships and an utter lack of them over the last fifteen-plus years. That’s more hazy, since I don’t have as much data from which to draw conclusions. Still, it’s suggestive that my normal response to stress is to withdraw socially, and even when I make the effort I have a truly horrendous time trying to “meet girls”.
Why am I even bothering to maunder on about this in a public venue? In part, it’s because, for me, the best way to examine my own thoughts, and possibly to exorcise my own demons, is to write them down, and Fur Affinity is a convenient place to do that. In part, it’s to provide a public service, however minor; if even one person recognizes similar signs in him- or herself and is encouraged to take action, that will make it worthwhile.
You'd think it would be a high factor, but it's not.
I get stressed from disorder, namely, having to deal with other peoples sense of or lack of order.
I love the ramen icon, by the way. It’s adorably funny.
I suggest ninja therapy! We will arrange for a random number of ninjas to stalk you, short sheet your bed, soap your windows, shave your cat... With this as a clear focus for anxiety, your other anxiety symptoms should all fade away.