Anxiety

One of the loveliest people I know asked me to write something about anxiety.

I have to say that I am not very in touch with myself about these things. I usually learn that I am stressed or anxious because my neck is more tightly knotted than usual or I have to remind myself to breathe.

I have only one particular memory of anxiety. 

I was sitting in the waiting room waiting for my driving test. I saw the woman who was to take my test looking at my license with another staff member. My photo on that card is an unusual one and for no good reason I thought they might be talking about it. And my breathing got out of control and my heart played the wrong rhythm and I realized I was anxious.

I failed the test possibly due to my anxiety or maybe the difficult clutch of the car I was driving. 

Many things could have changed the outcome of this test. 

If I had reminded people of my presence about seven years before, instead of thinking I was only worth the attention people gave me voluntarily, I would have been driving already. If I had insisted on buying an automatic, instead of yielding to the pressure to get a ‘real car’ or none at all. If I had asked to borrow another car from a less willing owner.

But instead I put a whole lot of pressure on myself, unwilling to be a burden to anyone by making requests, wishing to live up to a false idea of perfection, not making things any easier for myself. 

I wonder if this is often the case with anxiety and if it could be helped by taking a step back and looking at ourselves with sympathetic eyes and finding an easier route or making a more realistic ideal for perfection.