I was sharing with a friend recently that I have an anxiety disorder. I think it's the first time ever that I've admitted that to anyone. I've mentioned in passing before that I've experienced panic attacks but never have I fully addressed the source of my anxiety or acknowledged its existence beore. I doubt it's much of a surprise for people who know me cuz I have the personality type, but I've learned to become kick back over the years.
It's weird. Anxiety disorders are overwhelming, burdensome, a huge deal, and yet it isn't cuz it becomes a part of you and your body learns to somehow adapt to it like it's ordinary. It isn't until you have episodes are you really reminded of its severity and impact. But even then personally I find myself proceeding with my life cuz I don't want to stop and think about it. I feel like I've never really had the proper calibration of intensity and seriousness to ever discuss it. If I say it nonchalantly, do I sound disingenuous? I certainly don't want to be serious and solemn about it, either. I'm clearly over thinking it.
Just bringing the subject to the surface has made me a little more aware of my emotional stressors. Even small things can trigger me but never to the degree anymore (thankfully) that I rant about it on fb. It just passes through me. I've come a long way. I can't even recall what briefly affected me, but I remember knowing that my intensity in reacion wasn't proportionate to the event itself. I tend to forget these things cuz I no longer carry it within me, but the fact that it still impacts me the way it does reveals that I still need to work on trainin myself to "match" the circumstance so to speak. I can't deny who I am, but part of the reason why I stress so easily is due to habit. Seriously.
Anywas I told myself last night that I'd work on craft projects, but I didn't get a chance to. There's a paper shredder at work I planned on using, so this morning I gathered all my craft paper together. I was surprised by how overwhelmed I became. I feel like it's inaccurate to describe it as anxiety, stress, or panic. But whatever I was feeling is an offspring or a relative of those feelings. Not quite overwhelmed, burdened, confused, and paralyzed but within those proximity.
I came across a coloring book I remember purchasing after examining all six coloring books at the art store for many hours. I was hesitant and intensely contemplative about which one to buy. I finally decided to get one that was abstract but included color photos of each drawing. I needed a cheat sheet. That put me at ease and I needed that "support" to proceed. This is a decision a child could make easily and quickly, but I struggled with it.
As I was sifting through the array of scrapbook paper, my creativity didn't ignite. I didn't see artistic collaborations forming and visualizing in my mind. Rather rejections of color clashes and inadequate color combinations filled my mind. I was over thinking and analyzing everything. Last night I remember thinking that obver analysis murders intuition. I believe that creativity and intuition come from the same source, so it's understandable that I was creating a blockage in creative energy this way.
After researching possible layouts for a notepad project, I believe I came up with one. We'll see how it works out. :)