Friends and Anxiety

Right now I'm at a point of transition in my life and in my anxiety. Having had anxiety since around 2004, I've suffered at varying levels over the years. At certain points, it was only affecting my sleep (I would feel like I was going to die in my sleep and therefore had trouble falling asleep), and at other points it was so bad that I felt like I could not leave the house, leave the couch, or even actually bend over for fear of having a panic attack. Years of fear, negative thoughts, coupled with depression brought on by my anxiety, left me a changed person. Without a doubt, my anxiety had taken a once, outgoing, vivacious, funny, full of life woman and turned her into an obese introvert that is sometimes scared of her own shadow.

I've been extremely fortunate to have a wonderful, loving husband who would do anything in the world for me. I had a full blown panic attack (including trip to hospital) the night after our wedding. He has been in it with me since the beginning and has stuck by my side through it all. I will always be grateful to him for that. However, I am a woman who has always enjoyed having a group of strong, funny, women friends to run around and be wild with. 

In high school I had my softball girls, and our trips to the creek to get plastered in the hot Mississippi sun, or our neighborhood scavenger hunts that ended up in shaving cream fights. In college, of course, I was exposed to all sorts of different new people. I loved people. I loved getting to know people. I made a new friend every day of the week. My gregarious self was often times the life of the party and people enjoyed including me in things. I once hopped a car full of upper class-men headed to New Orleans on about 1 hours notice. I was up for anything. I went to Micronesia for a study abroad program for Christ's sake. I was adventurous -- is my point. 

Even after college, I always made friends in the different places I worked. Drinks after work, trips to FL, holiday gift exchanges, house parties, the works. This was my life, and nature up until about 24 years old. 

Then the anxiety came. I stopped smoking pot at 24. I stopped drinking at 26. I had heart surgery at 29. I stopped leaving the house and doing things around 33. 

That's a very condensed version of my anxiety but I don't want to get into the details of my anxiety. You can see that in other posts or if you're reading this, you most likely already know what anxiety and depression does to a person. It just makes your world smaller and smaller. 

Along the way however, all those friends I had made eventually got on with their lives. Some I had less and less in common with since I had quit partying. It's amazing how many relationships I had that revolved around drinking and rabble-rousing. And I'm not knocking it-- listen I really and truly wish I could still drink. I feel like it's great fun, and a great way to unwind and let loose. Unfortunately for me, anytime I'm not fully in control of my body and mind - I tend to have panic attacks. It's a bummer. But I guess my point is that I lost a lot of friends after I quit drinking. I didn't want to be the sober one around a bunch of drunk people and the "crazy" do anything girl that they where used to was not there anymore to keep them entertained. It just felt awkward. 

My social circle paired down to those who I truly had a connection with. And over the past few years, since I've been working from home, that circle has dwindled even more. I truly cherish the friendships that I have that remain in tact. I try my best to work hard at keeping them. Now that I am somewhat coming out of my anxiety cloud, I want to try to "get out there" and put my self in situations where I can meet new people and make new connections. However, in doing that, I am finding that I am a different person than I used to be. I have never felt socially awkward in the past, but now, it's almost like I'm out of practice or something.

I am viewing this as a phase of recovery. That's why I wanted to blog about it. I don't want to wallow in self pity about how I'm not the person I used to be. I have been through a lot. It changed me. I will accept that and move forward as best I can; discovering the new me along the way. Hopefully, some one reading this will be able to relate and not feel so bad about themselves. Maybe give themselves a break and know that they are not alone. They last thing someone needs that is recovering from anxiety is to get depressed about something like this. So, join me in alittle self-acceptance and cut yourself a bit of slack.