“Thought I found a way
Thought I found a way, out (found)
But you never go away (never go away)
So I guess I gotta stay now
Oh, I hope some day I’ll make it out of here
Even if it takes all night or a hundred years
Need a place to hide, but I can’t find one near
Wanna feel alive, outside I can’t fight my fear”
I suffer from anxiety.
I have done so ever since I can remember. I was probably born with it because I don’t remember a time in my life when I didn’t feel anxious. In fact, I don’t remember a time when I didn’t question my right to be in this world.
My mum and dad weren’t great. Their relationship was full of resentment, past hurts, childhood trauma, and anger. I spent my childhood walking on egg shells, a default pattern I have gradually learned to break… sometimes. When dad pulled into the driveway, we knew what to do. Grab anything you were playing with, tidy it away, be good, be proper, be invisible. Most of the time, this didn’t change the outcome. Even if we were the most invisible we had ever been, dad would always find a way to get angry. Angry at the mess of the house. Angry that we were there. Angry that he was trapped in this life he seemed to not want. And we copped it. Mum copped it. So when dad was around, I became a frightened rabbit.
This frightened rabbit has stayed with me all my life.
I look around at my friends, at my wife, and I yearn for what they have. To be still. To be confident in my place in this world. To just be. I’ve given up on asking the universe why I can’t obtain this. Now, I just focus on me. On giving myself the space to be when I’m feeling cornered, frightened, unsafe. I allow myself the time and the freedom to step back and stop. I’m okay. I’m strong. I’ve been through worse. I can do this and if I can’t, that’s okay too. It will pass. I will feel better. It’s not always like this. You will get through this. I love you.
At nearly 47 years-of-age, I have come to understand certain things about my anxiety.
1. I watch and adore horror movies for two reasons:
a. I’m chasing the adrenaline of my childhood trauma with movies that make me feel more frightened. If I’m more scared, or more disturbed, then my childhood won’t seem as bad.
b. I want to know that there’s worse things out there than what I experienced as a child.
2. I listen to really loud music, especially bands with heavy drums, big guitars and female lead vocals because:
a. I want to drown out the constant noise in my head.
b. I want to feel anguish and pain and loud, aggressive sounds so that I don’t feel like my own childhood experience is linked only to me. Surely other people feel pain too.
Today is a bad day for my anxiety. I’m running my pointer finger over the tip of my thumb. Again and again. It’s what I do, without even knowing I’m doing it. Sometimes I catch myself and I get embarrassed. But it helps. Repetitive behaviour stops my brain from thinking about dark stuff.
I know that today might be bad but tomorrow will be better. I’m hoping I wake up fresh, my gorgeous wife by my side, and I’ll feel strong again. Able to tackle this strange, hard world we live in. And things will be okay. Things will be okay.