My Life Goes On Without Me

At some point I lost my life but didn’t die. My life walked out on me in the middle of the night.

If there were a term for my condition, it would be a combination of the phrases here and there and neither here nor there. In the end I’m left without my life, yet “alive” enough to watch my life go on without me.

At some point either my life will fall back to me or I will catch up to my life. At some point I will question my life. Is my life happier without me? Who’s in charge of my life?

This infernal monologue, this self-inflicted doom: this is depression. This is me.

Prepare For Pain

I went to the dentist recently for my six-month checkup. I was anxious days before my appointment. My teeth are healthy, which is great, and I don’t go back until December. The visit reminded me of something I told the members of my Coping with Anxiety therapy group last year: suffering from an anxiety disorder feels like every day is a trip to the dentist.

One woman said she never thought of her anxiety this way. I was spot on, she said, and she wanted to share my analogy with all the non-anxious people in her life. I was happy to help her see her struggles in a new way. Group therapy has given me opportunities to share my experiences and offer advice. My therapist told me that other group members looked to me for wisdom and guidance. I appreciated his kind words.

Two weeks ago, I spent an hour at the dentist, paid my bill, made my next appointment, and drove home. When I’m super anxious, there is no home. I have no peace. Every day it’s the same drill: prepare for pain.