My Partner, My Anxiety
Let’s have a frank and honest discussion about my anxiety. I am on the blood pressure medications, not because of the top number in my BP readings (the systolic), which usually is a factor of things like activity and food; but because of the bottom number (the diastolic), which is your heart at rest. Which due to being an adult survivor of child abuse, my heart doesn’t understand being in a safe place, so it always runs as if my flight or fight mechanism has to ALWAYS be ready.
I bring this up, because I want to describe how every morning is for me, as soon as I open my eyes. I feel like I have been given a blank piece of 8 ½ x 11 paper. As soon as I wake up, I must write out the declaration of independence, the Quran, the Old Testament, the bylaws of my college fraternity and every single example of abuse that happened to me on this paper, by heart, word for word. If I mess one thing up, then I am a worthless husband to my wife and father to our amazing children. THIS is what it feels like for me every single day.
I feel white-knuckled every in everything that I do, because if I screw it up, then I mess up my marriage, and I mess up my children. ALL of whom deserve better than me, anyway. I don’t have a lot of friends or people that want to hang out with me, because my assumption is that they have better people to hang out with.
This is a peak into my anxiety. He’s a symbiotic passenger in my brain, who most of the time is in control, except for a scant, few seconds in the day.