I am stressed (admittance is the first step to recovery).
Confession: I am partly to blame.
Avoidance has become the biggest stressor in my life this year. Avoiding acknowledging, nevermind addressing, my own mental health issues and avoiding direct stressors like homework, practice, confrontation, et cetera has allowed me to dig my own grave. I am already three feet in the soil, halfway past insanity.
Procrastination falls into this category, a practice I’m quite proficient at myself. The crushing weight of my responsibilities normally sets in at around 6:00 pm after I’ve spent just shy of an hour postponing my homework in every way imaginable. But I’ve been groomed to succeed and soon the guilt of time poorly spent erodes my cool complacency.
Still, my greatest shortcoming is my inability to confront my own emotions and mental state, and, similarly, my astounding ability to suppress my feelings until I’ve rendered myself an inconvenience. I’m painfully aware of how infuriating it must be to raise an impatient, irritable, stubborn, teenager who cries unpredictably, most often in front of her unsuspecting parents.
During a recent Restorative Practice Circle I found myself mourning my childhood, a time when I knew what fun felt was like and how to reintroduce fun into my life with ease. As I reached high school, interest became conflated with obligation and I’ve come to realize that, outside from my obligations, I have no fun.
I want to make a conscious effort to better myself beginning by reintroducing my interests, my real interests entirely disassociated from school. I want to paint. I want to read. I want to watch movies that I should’ve three months ago. I want to learn new things meet new people. I want to not be such a hinderance to my parents’ own de-stressing. I also want to be able to remove myself as source of anxiety in order to address my actual inexplicable anxieties which seem to emerge from thin air, so thin it can feel like you’re suffocating.
Anxiety disorders are not uncommon, especially not among students. There comes a point where you have nothing left to surrender, no habits, no conscious anxiety inducers to let go of, but the stress persists, sometimes even magnifies upon the devastating realization that your efforts to recover were in vain.
I know there must be something underlying my stress, something beyond my control, but whatever is within my grasp I’ll try to change for the sake of my education, my self image, and my relationships with others.
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