I'm a 33 year old male and have had anxiety most of my life. Like a lot of people, I've had periods where it really didn't bother me, and some where I could barely function. I've always been quite good at hiding any anxiety or depression that I've had, so much so that even the few people I've told about my anxiety can't tell, a lot of times, what's going on with me. It's always taken every ounce of energy for me just to make it through the day. I despise the telephone and paying bills is excruciating. I have days where I absolutely can't stand being around people or interacting at all. Even the people that I love the most.
A couple things happened to me that have been slowly welling up inside me in 2014. One thing took me until recently to even acknowledge, because the thought of it seemed so ridiculous. I kept having recurring recurring feelings of guilt and shame until one day I Googled it and there it was. I was sexually assaulted by a female. A former friend. I was coerced and tried to say no for what seemed like an eternity one night. It must have been at least 15-20 minutes before I couldn't take it anymore and gave in. I appeared to be aroused so I must have wanted it deep down, right? No, not the case.
Another relationship that year ended with the realization that u was being emotionally abused. I always pride myself on being good to others, and conscientious of what other people need, even through my struggles to even act as a normal human. This particular partner had completely demolished any notion I had of myself being a good person, of being good enough to earn anyone's respect or trust. Luckily had a moment of strength and enough resolve to end it before it got any worse.
After all this, I ended up quitting a dead end job and going back to school, and landed another job that I enjoy. (Big events in life are no problem for me to handle, it's the small, every day monotonous things that are painstaking for me). I've met and become engaged to an absolute wonderful person, and there's not a shadow of a doubt that I want to spend the rest of my life with her.
Then came the knee surgery. 3 months straight of wearing pajamas and sitting at the house by myself most days. I've always been fairly athletic, and strong and agile enough to do basically anything I needed to do with my body. Now I am back at work and the anxiety has become almost crippling. The memories of past abuses have crept into my dreams, I worry about my little family at home without me, I worry that I'll never be able to walk without a limp, or kneel down, or run again. Getting used to interacting with people again has been intimidating, to say the least. But again, I put on my happy face and no one notices. The facade I put up is dangerously close to collapsing. Luckily my fiancée is an incredible woman, and suffers from anxiety herself, so I don't seem like a complete wreck to her.
I just wanted to vent a bit, I guess. I've been on 40mg of citilopram for years now, and my doc just put me on 10mg of Buspar twice a day. I have the feeling I need to go talk to someone to work through some of this stuff.
Thank you for reading my novel!