headspace | part of me

I facetimed Isabelle today. Both of us were in our gym clothes, about to have a jog. But, facetime sounded more interesting! πŸ˜‚Β I feel better emotionally than before. Andd.. There she was seeing right through me. AGAIN. πŸ™„ It annoys me that I can’t lie to her! She sees through all my bs. And God knows, for that, I am really grateful to have known her in this life.

 

It’s really hard for me to talk aboutΒ the anxiety symptoms I’m having to those around me. Even though they check on me frequently, I can’t help but feeling and thinking that I’m holding them back from living their life.

 

Isabelle asked me how I was doing, to which I replied with the “I’m-fine-feeling-a-lot-better” thing. I feel better in all honesty! βœ‹πŸΌ Then she gave me a look, and asked me the question that I dreaded the most – “Have you find yourself a psychologist in Malaysia?” Dammit. I’ve been avoiding looking for a psychologist out of fear. Fear of opening up to a stranger again. Fear of being judged. Fear of trying to convince people who I’m not faking it. The list is endless!

 

Then she went about something I can’t remember (sorry Fae πŸ˜…), and it was not until she asked me when was the last time I draw that got me thinking, “Oh. Yeah. I used to do that, don’t I?”

 

She reminded me more about the person I used to be – I draw. I put other people’s notes to shame with my sick cells flash cards, I play the violin, I’m quite fond of my artistic side, I’m funny (let me have this guys), I’m smart, I’m kind, I have a big heart. (Isabelle said all of these okay, I promise πŸ˜‚).

 

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Art from Pinterest.

 

I’m telling this not because I’m bragging of how cool of a person I was, because let’s face it, I am not. It’s just that I realised how much I’ve forgotten about myself. How much I’ve lost touch with myself and the stuffΒ that makes me who I was. Before I heard those words from her, the only thing I think about myself is that I’m a girl with generalised anxiety disorder. I am too preoccupied with my worries that I forget who I am. Of course I still have GAD. But that is only a part of me. Most of me is still the person whom I used to be before the onset of the anxiety. I still have the skills and abilities to achieve what I want in life. Because I am still me.

 

Hm. That’s aΒ tad confusing, but somehow it makes sense.

 

Side note: having a psychiatrist and a clinical psychologist for anxiety treatment serve two different purposes. A psychiatrist overlooks the mental health treatment plan and the medications, while the psychologist focuses on the psychotherapy. Basically, psychologist trains and equips ourselves to manage anxiety in the long run (which is vital), and the psychiatrist evaluates if we need any medication assistance or if we’re good to go facing the world. However, sometimes the psychiatrist may decide to carry out the therapy himself.

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