Beating the Terror of Writing for Others

I’m gonna be real honest with y’all:

Writing this blog freaks me the fuck out.

When I think of posting my words my body begins to panic. Stomach churning, hands shaking, heart speeding, queasiness, nausea, short breath. The fear of judgment can be absolutely overwhelming. 

The judgement and invalidation I have received over the years makes me hesitant to tell others of my mental illness. It makes me cringe, because I know most people don’t see my depression and anxiety. I’m what some people would call high functioning.

I constantly worry about others opinions, but upon meeting me you would never know. I am an incredible confident person in public. I have no worries about the words others say. I smile. I am in control. I am strong. I'm the person you come to when you have a problem, need advice or just a shoulder to lean on.

In reality, I am a nervous wreck. I will sit and stare off into space for hours on end, unable to force my body to obey my mind. Getting out of my car in the mornings is a struggle and in the evenings, I hide there, reveling in the safety of a place I've known for years. I play on my phone so I don't have to think and forget even the most important things as I panic over the list of goals I feel I cannot achieve.

I have so many drafts for this blog and I cannot force myself to post them. I worry they are not perfect, that they won't convince you to believe me, to be interested.

I hope I don't bore you. I hope you find some comfort in my words. I hope you know I care. I hope you can learn something of others or about yourself through me. I hope my words are enough.