Ball Handling

I want to tell you about my two companions. 

Much of my life has been spent not achieving.  There is a good reason for this, and it's only partly laziness or not-arsedness.  I look at other people in awe; what they have done, what they undertake,what they have the sheer balls to throw themselves into. 

Every life decision is, for me, underwritten by anxiety.  If you have ever played in the position of goal attack in netball (as I did at school, poorly but enthusiastically), you will remember how the opposing team always had someone tall in goal, blankly looming, blocking your every attempt to shoot.  This is what anxiety does.  It blocks your every attempt to shoot. 

An example of how this works in everyday life:  I'd like to sign up for Zipcar or similar but anxiety says what if you bring the car back and someone else has parked in the designated space.  A person without anxiety would either not consider this, or not be bothered.  It stops me signing up to Zipcar.  It's no good saying this is not reasonable.  Obviously I do find ways around this bastard anxiety quite often or nothing would get done.  But it's exhausting.

So that's my everyday chum, looming over me, standing rather too close while I flail around with the ball, in laddered tights (ah, netball).

The other companion waits down the road, like a very unmotivated, lumpen stalker.  Just waiting for everything to go tits.  And this one is called depression.  Depression has no face, just a powerful vacuum, and it waits until something goes wrong and sucks me in.

These two rather shitty companions tend to get in the way of doing much because all of one's energy is spent trying to be normal, rational, and getting on with life in a relatively productive manner.  And that can be bloody tiring. 

I can and do give them the slip when I can, and that is lovely.  They are not great company.

But in case you wonder where I go from time to time, I'm probably stuck with one or other of these boring bastards, trying to breathe them away.  Oh, you may wonder, what about medication?  Trust me, I've tried.  The problem with taking medication for anxiety is that it tends to be like applying a lump hammer to a pin. 

Life is actually fairly normal, considering.  But like I say, these bastards do get in the way a bit.  That's my excuse anyway.