My smile hides a lot. It hides my fear, my sadness, my loneliness and my anxiety. It hides the fact that I still feel like my life has had little accomplishment and always wondering when my break will come. When will I feel accepted? When will I feel loved? When will I be happy?
A year ago, I wrote about my (self-diagnosis of) depression after having watched Bryony Kimmings's "Fake It Till You Make It", and it was about then I started seeing a psychologist. While Dr C determined I did not have depression, he did diagnose me with severe general anxiety disorder. Great I thought, I've been diagnosed now I can get fixed. I saw Dr C fortnightly - sometimes weekly - for a year, and we would discuss different techniques and exercises I could do to manage my anxiety and while I always walked out of the session determined to do them, I never did.
For 16 years, I have felt helpless, worthless, anxious, lonely and depressed. 16 years. That is literally half my life. It's a scary thought when I think about that. 16 years of virtually hiding who I am. This no doubt has affected my relationships with friends, family and boyfriends. There are constant feelings of life passing me by and there is constant disappointment about where my life has headed.
I guess I have been fortunate that even though I have had suicidal thoughts, they have been far and few in between and I never realistically thought of going through with it. The closest I ever came was running a push pin up and down my arm till I bled. Just ended up looking like a cat had scratched me. This was during my late high school years and early university life and have since realised that that type of behaviour is not at all healthy and the faint scars on my arms remind me of this.
For the past six weeks I have been seeing a guy. Six weeks! That is virtually a lifetime for me. And it's not because I am afraid of commitment or relationships but purely because I have either not liked a guy enough to warrant seeing him or vice versa (shocking I know) or due to circumstances out of our control the relationship could not continue.
I met Sam* the old fashioned way - on Manhunt. We bonded over our mutual like of Saved By The Bell and ended up watching the "scandalous" unauthorised behind the scenes film together. The next six weeks passed by and we spent more time together; going to the movies and theatre, having dinner and spending nights together. He would pick me up from work, drop me off home and met various friends of mine. All the makings of a great relationship. Right? WRONG.
