This week I thought I shall talk about something that nobody truly knows about me.
One among the biggest reasons I fear getting close to someone is because I have separation anxiety. Everybody fears losing people. Nobody likes to watch people go, to be honest. But, what I have is different. I have a condition called Separation Anxiety.
So, let me explain further.
As a child, I would easily get attached to people. For example, say guests (family/friends) who would come home to stay for a few days (some family members came home for like one or two months). Irrelevant of the duration, I’d get attached and once they’d leave I’d cry. And I’d be sad for a couple of days until I get distracted with school and normal life.
Then when I was 12 years old, I lost a family member. Since that day, my anxiety elevated.
My anxiety elevated to the point where I would have nightmares about losing the most important people in my life. I used to be afraid of going to bed.
(I’m going to use “s/he” for convenience. There are actually a small number of people who mean a lot to me and I’d always be anxious about)
I would be anxious every time s/he would go out. Every time s/he went out, I would sit near the telephone because I would be scared that I’d receive a phone call from a random stranger informing me that s/he has met with an accident and has passed away.
In my head I would make up scenarios of how s/he would walk out of my life or would pass away and eventually leave me.
I would try to make sure that all of them would be in front of me for as long as possible. If they’d go out, I’d ask them when they’ll come back. If they don’t come back by that time, I’d start crying and feel nauseous. I’d feel instantly feel better once I hear them opening the door.
Sometimes, even if s/he is in the house but is out of my sight, I would go and find out where s/he is and check if they are still alive. (Yes, I used the word alive, as in, not dead)
When s/he would sleep (sometimes next to me), I’d take my finger closer to their nose or sometimes hug them to know if they’re still breathing or hold their wrist to check their pulse. Once I’d confirm that they’re still alive, I’d feel better.
Sometimes, I remember having moments wherein I’ve felt so fed up of being this anxious all the time and would actually want to them to die so, I don’t have to worry about them being alive. Grim shit, I know.
This feeling obviously meant that I detached my self from everybody so I don’t have to worry about them being alive. I couldn’t explain it to anyone, not even myself, regarding what I was going through.
Sometimes, I would also hope to be dead myself so I don’t have to go through this feeling. Selfish I know, but that’s how I would feel.
Over the past eight-ten months, I have let myself get close to a few individuals. Why I decided to do that and why I let myself do that is something I can’t comprehend. Because I have more people to worry about, you know. But now that I have done that and I let myself be close again to the most important people in my life, I just hope I don’t go back to worrying again, you know?
Which is why I’m in a way adamant to go to a place wherein none of my family members live, so in a way I don’t have an escape route when I get faced with this anxiety again. In a way that is stupid.
When it comes to a person like me, I need to be all in or all out. I can’t have any loop holes or escape routes. Because when I do, I know I will escape. Now, I have my family and I know I can run to them when things get hard. And I don’t want that. I need to learn to deal with my own shit. I need to have no escape routes to do that.
That’s all for this Sunday. Please share your thoughts about this blog. Thank you for reading.