Ive tried my best to perhaps explain why this is the case in my blog...
Monday, April 21, 2008
The dastardly, moody beast.
Most fears cannot be hidden, because the demonic object causes so much raw fear, it is unable to be compressed. For example, I have a fear of dogs. If I see a dog walking along the street or tied up, I get anxious and will go to great lengths to avoid it. Go back and take the much longer route to my destination, or simply sprint as quickly as I can, get the hell out of there. However, my SP can be compressed for the simple reason that the symptoms of the fear will force judgemental thoughts from others, and those bastards are the big daddy of all our fears.
It takes one horrible situation for the mind to inflict the full blast of panic on our physical selves. I have never actually had it happen in such a way, but the compressed fear is clearly there, only leaks of it actually pierce through the wall. An instance of this is when you blush, or your heart rate goes up. This indicates a stronger and more severe situation than normal.
The Primary signs of Anxiety are the following
1. Strong heart beat
2.Increase heart rate
3.Blushing
4.Sweating
5.Nausea/ stomach ache/ Diarrhea
6.Muscle tenseness
7.Trembling of hands and feet
The only constant one for me is no.6. I find it nigh impossible to relax my muscles at any time. Others occur or don't occur depending on my mood and the situation at hand. The inconsistent nature of this phobia along with the self created cloak the fear hides itself under makes SA one great enigma.
There are somedays you feel you can take on the entire world and pip it at the finish, there are other days where you feel like that ant that you squished when you took on the earth. Sometimes you will question whether you are even handicapped, the day before you lock yourself in your bedroom because of a stanger in your oasis. There are days where you tread a path, stealthing your way through shopping centre, hoping to avoid a hostile familiar. Sometimes you may even walk past and let out a moderate hello, its his failure to respond that once again puts you back in your shell.
We are more fragile than most, criticism that feels like a slap on the wrist for most resembles a scything scimitar piercing our soul. Criticism is the devil as it is the ultimate form of judgement. We have to go about our day restrained to our oasis, or with immaculate perfection, or we once again fall under the spell of the dastardly beast.
it kinda sucks walking around with the social fragility of glass. But sometimes you can wake up feeling anxious for no apparent reason, then sometimes as quite often happens, you will encounter something bad and you will begin to feel like crap.
