Ok so I touched on this topic yesterday, but I don’t think I went into quite enough detail.
There was a picture quote I saw the other day which, to me, summarised it pretty well.
“People with anxiety perceive the world differently – their brain lumps both safe and unsafe things together and labels them all unsafe”
Basically what this means is my brain can’t tell when I’m in danger and when I’m not so it forces me to act like I am all the time. This results in me being constantly apprehensive or anxious. At the slightest thing, my heart beat will rise, I’ll start sweating and my hands will shake. Otherwise known as the fight or flight response. When you have anxiety the option you chose is nearly always flight, or at least hide.
This morning I had form with my form tutor and he was going round the tables, chatting with us about how we were doing.
Then he got to our table.
He pulled up a chair an sat down, always a bad sign. Then he asked in general how everyone was doing before turning straight to me and started talking about my anxiety. My mind was freaking out and I went quiet as a mouse.
Basically I had had an intervention meeting the week before and the teacher I had it with had told him everything.
He started suggesting that he could walk me to class when I was late…IN FRONT OF MY FRIENDS. No knew about my anxiety but my parents and the teacher at the intervention meeting. He didn’t even realise.
This wasn’t what worried me the most though, it was the way he talked about it…like I was just shy. Like it could be fixed by a word from a teacher.
It’s never that simple.
He doesn’t understand how on the walk to the classroom I would feel sick to my stomach and stumble along the corridor.
He doesn’t understand in my mind, danger lurks behind every corner. I feel like I am always being watched.
He doesn’t understand that if I was unlucky enough to see someone on the way I would stutter my words and be unable to focus.
He doesn’t understand that halfway there my hands would go numb. My mind would leave my body and suddenly I’d be watching in third person. My throat would be dry, I would be sweating and shaking and then suddenly…Id be there.
He doesn’t understand that when I arrive I would hesitate outside the door, sometimes not being able to resist the urge to run. I would search my mind quickly for an excuse and then realise I was taking too long. I’d be forced to push open the door, terrified someone inside saw me hesitating.
Then I’d be in, but far from safe.
He doesn’t understand the whole class would look up at me and my heart would jump into my throat. If I was lucky they’d be doing an exercise, if not the teachers stops talking when I walk in.
He doesn’t understand when he asks for an excuse my voice would shake as I mumble ‘I overslept’ praying for no more probing questions.
I’d sit down.
He doesn’t understand I’d learn nothing that lesson, taking notes like a zombie. My voice a mere whisper when my friends try to talk to me.
He doesn’t understand as soon as the bell rings I would hurriedly back my bag and run. I’d walk as fast as I can to the bathroom, hardly able to hold in the tears that have been trapped for an hour. My eyes swimming, I’d then rush into a cubicle and slam the door shut. Then the tears would fall.
He doesn’t understand I would be in there for two minutes or two hours, depending on when my next lesson is. Then I would wipe my eyes clean, put on some spray, fix my hair and make up and then plaster a fake smile on my face.
The I’d be gone.
I would think about this instance for a week before it slipped my mind. If it was a particularly bad encounter, the teacher probing with more and more questions, I may never forget it.
Can you see why I can’t go to class late now?
Sorry for the depressing post guys! I rally wanted to get this off my chest. In return is there anything you would like to say? Do you have any tips for me or other people?