An Anxious Weekend & Monday

I have been feeling anxious these past few days and today. Since my mental health has been pretty good for a while, it almost feels odd to have the weight of anxiety in my chest again.

On Friday I lied to my mom in order to keep a secret from her. As I’ve written on here multiple times, I’m moving in with my boyfriend this year. But the thing is, my mom doesn’t know and I still live with her.

The woman I have been working with to get a pre-approval letter for a mortgage decided to call my mom’s house phone because she claimed to not have my cell phone number. I’ve been banking at that bank for 10 years, they have my cell number.

Since my mom is completely in the dark about this, she was flabbergasted that somebody was calling about a mortgage for me. So I lied to her face, I couldn’t confess to my secret. I told her it must have been a mix up, another Megan. That the woman made a mistake and that I had no plans of taking out a mortgage.

The reason it is a secret is because my mom would flip out on me. We would fight like crazy. She would kick me out of her house and disown me. She wouldn’t love me or care about me anymore. She would say she only has one child, my brother.

I spoke to my brother about it but he made it worse. He continued to put pressure on me, essentially bully me, into telling my mom the truth on Saturday. Him and I spoke in-person on Sunday where we both said how the situation made us anxious. Ultimately I told him this is my life and this situation doesn’t effect him.

So since all of this going on I have felt so anxious! I have been having trouble sleeping, sleeping during the day because I can’t sleep at night, laying in bed a lot and hiding away in my room. All of the signs that my anxiety is high and my depression is low.

I’m seeing my therapist next week so I want to chat with her about this entire situation. I have no idea how to best go about this so I’m hoping her and I can work through it together.

My Fears: Everybody Hates Me

Since I wrote a few days ago about my fear of being fired from my job, I figured I would do a series about my different fears sustained by my anxiety. This one is about my fear that everyone secretly hates me.

I have thought that everyone hates me since I was a child. I don’t know where it originally came from but anxiety always told me that. I often thought my friends were friends with me for pity and not because they wanted to hang out with me.

As my mental illness developed as I grew up, I felt that way more and more.

I mainly have felt this way in romantic relationships. With my first boyfriend at the age of 15, I thought he was dating me for pity. I thought he was so cute, cool and 16 that there was no way he actually wanted to date me.

That feeling was solidified after I found out he was cheating on me with another girl. It told me that I am not enough.

Fast forward to 22 and I felt that way again with my ex and now at 25 I still have those feelings about my current boyfriend.

I worry that deep down he hates me. I worry that he is with me because he feels sad for me. I worry that he is always on the verge of breaking up with me especially if there’s an argument.

Whenever there’s a rough patch I think, “Omg, this is the end. He’s going to break up with me.” So far that hasn’t happened, we have been together for 2 years.

It’s this deep insecurity that I have always had inside me. That I am not good enough and not worthy of love. That my mental illness and other weird quirks are a turn off, making people run away from me as quickly as possible.

Anxiety screams so loudly in my mind that it is often difficult to tune out. On repeat it tells me that everybody hates me and is planning to leave me.

My therapist has worked hard to try and tell me that my anxiety is wrong. That there are many people who care about me, she even had me create a list once! She asked me to really think, without anxiety’s influence, about who I know does not hate me.

Maybe I should do that again but I’m not sure if it will curb these thoughts.

Hope you guys are all doing well!

— Megan

 

The Physical Scars

*TRIGGER WARNING* I’m talking about self-harm today, if you are in a sensitive place please stay safe. Skip this post if you need to!*

I have been ashamed of the physical scars that have been left behind from years of self-harm. Some are fainter than others but all are still reminders of miserable, painful moments in my life. Times where I fell to the bottom hoping I would bounce back up like a ball and not lay there on the ground like a rock.

Each scar was created out of desperation for relief from loneliness, suicidal thoughts and heartbreak. In those moments, cutting myself was what I thought would help me.

When I started hurting myself on my legs I got very nervous about wearing shorts and swim suits in the summertime. I worried that someone would see (whether that be a stranger or someone I know) what I had done to myself. Most of the time I never told anyone I had hurt myself, it was my little secret.

Showing my skin meant my secret was out for the world to see. It was kinda of terrifying.

This past summer I read a few perspectives of others who had a similar problem with scars on their bodies. Some of them said, you know it doesn’t matter, wear what you want and if somebody makes a comment then they’re the asshole. That was a good enough explanation for me so I wore shorts all summer.

I braved the world with my legs out and nobody said a damn thing to me.

If this is something you’re struggling with, if you feel super uncomfortable at the thought of people seeing your scars then cover them up for now. I hope that at some point you will be able to let your guard down and show the world your beautiful skin!

Stay strong! –Megan