Where shall I start?
The beginning is too long ago; but maybe the most impactful will make it. I was mid 30s unhappy with my job. We all thought that we would have opportunities to move up within a pretty reasonable period of time. But we did not. The economy was not good and works for people like us were highly competitive. I had this desperate wish to leave my current work place and move to somewhere else with a better level of job, respect, and financial prosperity.
Well, it did not happen and I got more and more agitated. I started to have problems at my current work place; I was good at what I have done but I was not particularly a pleasant person. So people working with me, specifically my boss, were having a hard time to deal with my career-frustrations. I lost my motivation quite a bit and decided to do something else, mostly to get away from my work place. Hence, I started studying French language. My aim was to have a feeling of how much I could get into it and if I was into it at a sufficient level, then to attend a course to learn it. I was buying the books and listening to the CDs for pronunciations. I could turn the TV on French channels and try to grasp. It was all fun.
What I have not seen coming was that while I was not working the analytic side of my brain because of the less time I spent at work, even though I thought I was as I was studying, my brain would just collapse. Not literally; but that is how it felt. At one point of time, I felt a sudden and powerful rush and vicious, violent dance of all bunch of emotions, not necessarily the positive ones for that matter, into my conciousness.
I was sitting on my couch when that happened and it was a nice afternoon. As soon as it happened, I started to freak out with the strength of the feelings. I did not know what was happening but I knew I was feeling incredibly bad. I was scared by the thoughts running in my mind; I was living in a terrible world created by my mind. I believed every single thing it said. Otherwise was not possible.
With this new “reality”, I walked around as if I was being dragged around with the heaviness in my chest. I could not sleep. I could not find one moment of peace. This horrible state and my lack of understanding of it continued quite a bit. I bought books, realizing it was possibly a mental situation, but focusing was so difficult I could not read them for quite sometime. I thought about seeing a doctor, yet I did not even know how to define it. I could not ask help, I could not focus on anything, and I could not understand it.
Eventually, I identified the core feeling as fear and thus was able to find self-help books on fear. There I realized what I was happening to me was a kind of anxiety. It was a relief finding a name to my situation. It also helped me to see that whatever looked real was not real; I was safe. But in the majority of time when I could not focus on reading and thus understanding my feelings, my mind was busy playing me the worst scenarios over and over, more vivid than ever, and more fearsome than anything. My mind was the worst enemy and finding a way to subsidize it did in fact prove to be difficult.
– to be continued
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