If you told me 13 years ago, that I’d be grateful for having had a social anxiety disorder most of my life, I’d probably want to kick you in the shin. Social anxiety has been the biggest part of my life, it consumed me through my teenage years and taunted me as an adult. For a long time, I felt as if I’d missed out
I’ve seen a lot of tweets/statuses/blog posts/youtube videos about self-diagnosing social anxiety disorders and other mental illnesses lately. There’s a lot of heated debates going on and it seems very divided between those who think self-diagnosis is perfectly valid and people who flat-out think it’s unacceptable. I personally didn’t have the chance to self-diagnose my disorder because my diagnosis was given to me by a therapist
Since starting this blog 3 years ago, my mental health has drastically improved for a few reasons: a) I felt that if I was going to write a blog about mental health, I wanted it to be more positive and helpful rather than just write a journal about how shit things were going, so I’ve worked on my own mental health a lot. b) It’s become
Dealing with anxiety alone can be really isolating. Even if the people in your life know that you have anxiety and are supportive, it can still be difficult when you can’t talk explicitly about it to someone who knows what it’s like. For years I had no idea that other people would wake up in the middle of the night panicking about some tiny embarrassing
As I made my way towards the therapist’s office, I was my usual self; head bowed, hands in pockets, scuttling along at a frantic pace, desperately trying to avoid eye contact with the throngs of city centre workers and shoppers and the negative thoughts that they were so obviously thinking about me. “Skinny wimp”. “Unfashionable loser”. “Billy-no-mates”. Or the worst of the lot, “Black bastard”.