For the past couple of nights, I’ve had quite a few anxiety attacks. I knew that I didn’t need to be alone, yet it felt like that my body did not want to move. It was so bad that I was really close to calling someone to take me to the Emergency room. As I lay on my couch, I didn’t know what was happening, or why it was happening.
I got up to look in my closet for something, and I found a teddy bear in there that may have been transferred in the moving. Surprisingly enough, it brought me a little comfort, at least enough for me to sleep on this night.
You see, growing up, and even into my adolescent years, I slept with a stuffed animal at night. If I ever lost the animal, I would go into a panic state. The reason I slept with a stuffed animal was because growing up, I felt extremely isolated from everyone. This isolation was so severe, that said stuffed animal became for the most part my friends at a stretch. Keep in mind that I had a sister with me, and I was generally well liked at school or anywhere I went. Even then, I still felt distant from everyone I knew. This also plagues me to this very moment.
I guess now thinking about it, challenging my perfectionistic ways drove me to this teddy bear that night. Right now, I’m unlearning what my mind has crafted for essentially my whole life. This type of strain may have caused the attacks on the days prior.
I know right now, I’m still very anxious, and because of that, I feel extremely blind mentally. I hope that it really isn’t too late that I am working on my perfectionism. To be honest, I seriously wonder if I have what it takes to tame it.