Some people don’t seem to understand that anxiety doesn’t let you decide what you are and aren’t able to cope with. Cliff diving? Done it, love it, would do it again. Small, closed spaces? Don’t love it, would do it again if given the opportunity and a good enough reason. Laying in bed with my dog on top of my blanket and gently trapping my arm or leg? I’d rather die.
I don’t get to pick my anxieties and anyone asking “but how is that different” gets my standard response: they’re different because one of them makes me feel deliriously bad.
Some people don’t seem to understand that anxiety doesn’t let you decide what you are and aren’t able to cope with. Cliff diving? Done it, love it, would do it again. Small, closed spaces? Don’t love it, would do it again if given the opportunity and a good enough reason. Laying in bed with my dog on top of my blanket and gently trapping my arm or leg? I’d rather die.
I don’t get to pick my anxieties and anyone asking “but how is that different” gets my standard response: they’re different because one of them makes me feel deliriously bad.