When you live with anxiety, it can be difficult to distinguish between the symptoms of the condition and all of the bullshit going on around you. I
frequently occasionally find myself asking, “Is this person being a jackass—or am I irritated because of my anxiety disorder?” (Sometimes it’s a tough call.)
Combine anxiety with depression, and those two jerks regularly have me paralyzed, wanting to complete a task but lacking the required energy. Unable to string together coherent thoughts. Unable to approach normal social situations with any grace (if I even make it out the door at all). Unable to function in the afternoon. Well, except binge-watching Netflix. I can always do that.
But sometimes, just sometimes, anxiety isn’t a complete asshole.