Sometimes I'm scared

My favourite type of holiday is one where you get settled. I loved making friends and finding my favourite coffee shops in Hanoi, I loved knowing where the best donuts were in Bangkok, and this year in Barcelona I loved getting to know our little area of Poble Sec and that the local barman knew our order. So America should be perfect right?

Sometimes it doesn't feel that way at all. Sometimes it feels like the idea of going over to somewhere crazily completely new and trying to make friends and a life is just too daunting.

This week I finished therapy. And that was scary too.

I know I have come a long, long way from that girl who was dragged to the doctors eight weeks ago, that girl who couldn't cope with life. But I feel like perhaps she's not that far away at all, what if she is just hiding, waiting to crawl back into my life.

Yesterday, like every other uni student under the sun, I was really, really stressed. Deadlines are on Friday and I wrote off a whole day yesterday by getting up really late and then wasted a whole evening going to a poetry slam which, whilst good, was way longer than I expected.

My anxiety that has calmed down so much since therapy, rose back up to my throat and I found myself drowning in thoughts that I have worked so hard to suppress. Even returning to the library to find more people there than I expected freaked me out, even though every single one of them are my close friends.

And you know what, it really scared me.

What if the reasons for my progress with my mental health are entirely circumstantial and not to do with therapy at all?

What if every time I get stressed I go straight back to square one?

What is going to happen in America when I'm surrounded by a million people I don't know in a place where I don't even have my own room to retreat to if I can't cope with four of my close friends in Kent?

What if it never goes away?

These are questions that have been running through my head, repeatedly, since yesterday which make me really anxious for my year abroad. They make me wish that I had been referred to another therapist, as I had the option, to continue my CBT until I can fully, 100% function on my own and until I know that I'm never going to fall into the pit that I fell into this year.

But that is never going to happen.

I need to accept that sometimes I'm scared.

That sometimes its going to be really hard to leave my room and see other people.

Sometimes its going to be really hard to feel comfortable around big groups of people.

Sometimes I'm going to cry just because I don't feel like I can connect to anything or anyone.

Sometimes I'm going to cry because I hate that I cry over not connecting to anything or anyone.

But that is ok. No its not fun, no it isn't easy, but it is ok. It is livable and controllable and the self-awareness that therapy has given me allows me to notice when I am sinking into thoughts that bring me down. Yesterday, I knew what was happening. I knew that I was stressed and therefore that my anxiety was worse. I knew that I was letting thoughts get to me more because I was tired. I was aware that it was happening and why it was happening. And, whilst I couldn't control it and it scared me that I had to cope with it on my own, it was ok. I could vocalise to Adam what was wrong, so that he was in a position to help me.

It was ok.

Today I am stressed as well, I have agreed to things tonight that I don't really have the time or the energy to do. Social situations that aggravate my anxiety at the best of times. But I feel more in control, a little bit more positive and it will be alright. I will leave this house and get my essays done. I will see my grandparents and enjoy it. I will go to creative writing and feel a part of something.

I will be alright.

Its just that sometimes I'm scared.

But I know it will be fine.

This entry was posted on Monday, December 15, 2014 and is filed under ,,. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0. You can leave a response.

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