03/21/2023
The Breakup
“The anxiety is the illness” my counselor said. As I paced across the floor feeling like I was going to explode from anxiety overload.
The thoughts would not stop. What if, what if, what if?
I didn’t recognize myself, the beast had taken over. “The anxiety is the illness.”
It was like a lightbulb went on - I realized then we were separate, my anxiety and I. I, a beautiful, gentle soul. My anxiety a raging, controlling beast.
It was not always like this. As a child I was carefree, ready to go along with anything, no worries as they say. But somewhere along the way, trauma after trauma, my anxiety found me. He came in one day and took up residence in my brain. I didn’t invite him in and I didn’t ask him to stay, but like an unwelcome guest he made a home and wouldn’t leave. He became a part of me. Every waking hour he was there. Taunting me, tormenting me.
“You’re not enough” he would say, “you are socially awkward, bad things are going to happen to you. You need to be careful about everything thing you say because you’re going to say the wrong thing and offend people. You need to make checklists in your mind of all the things you are supposed to do to keep yourself safe from disasters. You need to lock your doors and then go around and double check them to be sure you’re not leaving yourself vulnerable. You need to take your medicine and don’t forget because bad things will happen if you don’t take it. I own you, I rule you. You need to work in a safe and predictable job and don’t stray from it or you will fail. You need to do everything you can to get other people to like you because otherwise you are unlovable and will be rejected and alone. You need to live a structured life, avoid adventure and risk because bad things will happen. You need to control your children or bad things will happen to them. I own you, I rule you. You’re not good enough, you’re crazy. You can’t live your life without me.”
He was like an abusive and narcissistic lover. He didn’t really love me though, he couldn’t. So one day, I mustered all my courage and we broke up. It wasn’t sudden really. I had seen it coming. We were never really right for each other. Something always felt off to me about the relationship. Like it really wasn’t who I was. As I took four different medications to stop his bullying, I thought how did I get this way? Why did I let him take over my life and brain wash me?
The anxiety is your illness. Yes, an illness, not really me. An illness implies I can get better, I can heal. So after a night of brain wringing and fighting with anxiety I woke up battered and bruised. I was determined. Enough is enough! I unfurled my cape and grabbed my magic lasso. I roped it around anxiety’s neck and said “tell me the truth!”
He said “I lied about it all so I could control you and you wouldn’t leave. You are beautiful and strong and brave and wise and your heart knows the right thing to do always. You don’t need me. You never have. You are perfect and confident and you have all the answers. There’s no need to be afraid of anything, especially not yourself.”
And with that I released him and said “I am claiming my place as a mental super hero. I will no longer allow you to own me. Go now and find a home elsewhere. You are not welcome here any longer.” Reluctantly he backed up, turned and walked away.
At first it was kind of hard living without him as I had gotten so used to his voice in my head. But I harnessed my own courage and started designing my new life, the life I really wanted, the life I could claim without him by my side. My courage came back, my spontaneity, my love of adventure as I stepped into my beautiful future. That’s the story of how my anxiety and I broke up. It wasn’t easy leaving the abusive relationship, but it’s been so worth it. And you know what, I don’t miss him, not one tiny bit.
Melanie Shults
