My anxiety makes it hard for me to commit to future plans because my mind changes by the day. Today, I might be super excited about the idea of taking a road trip with my best friends over summer vacation. But when the time comes to actually follow through on those plans, there’s no telling what kind of mood I’m going to be in. I might be terrified to step foot out of the house. I might be nervous about what kind of conversation to make during such a long drive. I might be dreading the idea of being stuck in the car for such a long period of time with no escape, no chance to leave early, no way out of the situation.
Of course, I also hate last second plans. I need time to prepare for what I’m about to get myself into. I ned to pick out an outfit. I need to look up directions. I need to get myself into the right mindset to socialize. I rarely agree to plans made at the last second because there’s not enough time to prep myself mentally.
My anxiety causes me to stay stuck in my home, alone, wishing I was out with other people. Meanwhile, I’ll spend most of my time with other people wishing I was back in bed in bed. I’m never happy. I’m always wishing I was somewhere else. Or maybe I simply wish I was someone else. I wish I was someone who felt comfortable in social situations. I wish I was someone who could strike up a conversation with anyone, even a complete stranger, and keep it going for hours. I wish I was the type of person who got energized by being around big groups of people. I wish my brain worked differently. I wish even the simplest conversations weren’t such a chore for me.
My anxiety is a constant source of stress. Even when it’s not around, I’m worried about when it might come bouncing back. I’m worried that it will ruin a perfectly fine day out of nowhere.
My anxiety causes me to miss out on tons of events, adventures, and experiences. I might turn down an invitation to a party out of fear the other person only invited me because they thought I would say no. Or because they were trying to be polite. Or because they felt bad for me. It doesn’t matter how many times someone tells me they want me to come, because I will assume they are going to be relieved when I don’t show up. I will assume I’m secretly unwanted.
My anxiety makes it hard for me to get excited about the future because I never know what I’m capable of handling. Some days, I can act carefree and funny. Other days, I can barely make eye contact without wanting to run and hide. I never know what to expect from myself. I never know when anxiety is going to hit me next.