Freaking out (negative)
I have a fantasy in which a doctor puts me to sleep, takes a scalpel, opens me up, and removes every thing that is wrong with me. All of my stubbornness, insecurity, otherness, the list goes on. Most especially, I want my anxiety extracted and buried in a hole in a remote country on the other side of the world.
Everyone needs a little anxiety. Just enough to remind you to look both ways before crossing a street, to call your grandparents, to tell your GP about the little bump on your leg.
Nobody needs the level of anxiety I have. I hate it so much. On most days I operate well enough. I can live independently, keep healthy friendships and relationships, and excel in my job. But when it gets bad it's bad. My anxiety manifests itself in poor eating habits, skin picking, headaches, and constant rumination, all of which only compounds the anxiety.
Even though I spend so much time thinking about things that are upsetting me, I can't always figure out the right way to verbalize it. And if I have figured out how to say what I want to say, I get anxious about being vulnerable and what it might change, or how it will affect those around me.
I don't want my only consoling words for myself to be "It'll all be over after X amount of time" or "Not every change is a bad one." Why isn't there a cure yet?