When I go to therapy I am asked if I like myself. Of course I do or I would be dead by now. If I didn’t like who I was when I am healthy I would have just killed myself by now. I am a happy, fluffy, educated, kind, tender person. I don’t ever care what people I don’t love think of me. Even now. I have self worth and self esteem even when sick. I guess this is weird.. Or at least therapists and mental health professionals here make it sound like I over came something to gain this sort of peace with anxiety. I didn’t. It is a disease. I can’t help it, so it just is.
People who don’t have anxiety or haven’t dealt with anyone with it before don’t fully grasp how bad I am. I tell them, but people still ask why I am not all smiles and cheer. It is a dramatic difference in me. I love working with the public when healthy. I like human interaction and going out. I am social and free spirited. I keep telling people I am mentally ill, but they still want healthy Jenny. Healthy Jenny has left the building and I can’t even muster up enough energy to fake it. If I didn’t love myself I see no reason to keep living in this hell. People say suicide is selfish. I believe it is selfish to not realize the pain someone is in to get to that point where the disease has taken over completely.