Between the therapy and medication, I really thought I was gaining control over my anxiety. Now, I feel like the only change is that I am cognizant of the issue. I said one little thing to Mr. Random without thinking, and it quickly spun out of control. He was concerned about what I said, I was flipping about his concern and the fact that I was a colossal moron* to begin with. We finished watching our movie in near silence, then started a second one. All the while, my anxiety and fear were building to a fever pitch. By the time the second movie ended, I was a mass of nerves and worry. I couldn't sit still, I couldn't stop moving my hands around, and I couldn't stop talking or thinking. He teased me in his usual manner, and it was too much for me. I took something I know was a joke literally and had to leave the room. He heard me fighting back tears and followed me. I made him feel awkward, which made me feel worse, and I was rendered unable to talk except to stammer "I'm sorry." Obviously, he didn't know what to say in the face of an anxiety-hormone-insecurity riddled mess yet with my sniffling the only sound to punctuate the silence, my anxiety continued to build. I tried to explain that the issue was in my head, not based on anything he had done, even delving into what Generalized Anxiety Disorder is and how this lovely freak-out was symptomatic of it. He was supportive and asked some good questions, but ultimately he needed time to process the afternoon. We hugged and kissed goodbye and he left, assuring himself as he left that I was okay.
I'm tired of feeling like an insecure mess. He's more awesome than I can really process, and somewhere, not to far below the surface, I feel like I don't deserve him. Like I'm not good enough for him. I have to get this out of my head. I should be worried about whether or not he's good for me, not what I have to do to keep him. He texted this morning to check on me. He obviously likes me. Why can I believe all the wonderful things about him and none of them about me?
*my opinion at the time, not an actual accusation
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So my sweet silly siser thought that just because she knew about the anxiety issue, she was in complete control. I have one word for you my siser, Dooce.
And even as I read this, I must say that your anxiety is coloring your perspective. You are too harsh - it was not a colossal fuck up. And perfection should be alloted to cold, lifeless marble statues only.
I will concur with this, though - "I should be worried about whether or not he is good [enough] for me." Yes, that is the question. Awesome - that's a tall order. He has flaws and he's definitely NOT too good for you.
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