Every morning it’s a struggle to be honest.
How much do I want the world to know what’s going on with me? Not that much if I’m truthful, but then how will anyone know how I am really feeling?
Skin Deep
Yesterday I posted on my personal FB page with a photo I took of myself that morning.
I don’t look that bad. I’m showered, my hair washed and left to dry naturally, I have a little bit of makeup on and I’m smiling. I also have sunburn but we’ll deal with that another time!
In short, I look happy.
Inside is a different story.
Inside I am anxious as can be. I have to go somewhere I have never been before and take the teenager. He can also anxious so apparently, I have to be the parent and be the strong one. That, of course, makes me even more anxious!
So, I make sure that the people we are meeting see what I want them to see. A woman, a mum, looking as if she takes care of herself and her appearance. I wear a dress and perfume. My thought process is that if I look okay, I will feel okay.
What about underneath?
What you don’t see, however, is the scars on my arms where I scratched myself making me bleed. I write those off as cat scratches.
You don’t see the nausea welling up in my throat as I have to prepare to leave the house having looked up directions four times, checking the map. Yes, I do have sat nav but I need to know. I don’t just want to get there I need to do where there is.
You can’t see the bags under my eyes due to lack of sleep as my mind spent hours going over different scenarios to find one that works. So much going on that is helping me spiral that I still can’t believe it is happening to me. Grateful for concealer.
You don’t see the gurgling stomach and the fear that I may need the loo whilst out. Deep breathing, trying to convince myself I am fine, plus a beady eye when we get there for toilet signs.
You can’t here the racing heart that may or may not leap out of my chest. One day I fear it just might.
You don’t see the tears. The anguish. The heartbreak as things fall apart. That you will never see unless you are really lucky. Or unlucky depending on how you look at it.
And all this before 10am.
The Mirror Cracked
This folks, is anxiety. Generalised Anxiety Disorder. At least it’s my anxiety.
And my excellent masking.
My friends may start to see the cracks but others won’t. It’s that warrior in me. I can’t let them see yet perhaps I should. Perhaps then they won’t expect me to act “normally”. Perhaps then they will understand what I say, how I explain things. My reasoning for what I do what I do.
But I won’t. That façade is impenetrable. If anyone does successfully shoot it down, they won’t like what they see. They won’t understand.
Some may even walk away.
You see you don’t always get what you see. You can’t always judge a book by its cover.
What you see on social media isn’t always real. It’s what people want you to see. And it doesn’t always do you any favours.
In short, you never know the real story.
This wasn't in my Master Plan
If you had told me 2 years ago, I’d be like this I’d have laughed you out of town.
I had some lovely messages in response to my post for which I am very grateful. But I suspect there will be have been some people who either skipped on by, read it and thought blimey I best stay away from her, or, perhaps that I was making it all up. Because they knew me. Do you?
Anxiety can happen to anyone. For some it will be obvious. They may be brave and ask for help. They may feel confident to tell their friends, their employers. Others, however, may not. They may be private people, not wishing to share with anyone. It is dangerous to assume that you know which one they are.
After all, assume made an ass of you and me.
Never assume that the happy, smiley, put-together person next to you is exactly that. They may have anxiety, they may have depression, they may be going through a divorce, a serious illness, they may have an invisible disability. There are so many possibilities.
So please, be kind, be aware of your words.
Never assume you understand, but it will not hurt to ask.
