I have an anxiety disorder, which manifests in a lot of ways. But a central component is that I am very hard on myself. A lot. (thread ⬇️)
Ie: if I was smarter, (x) would've happened instead of (y). If I was a better person, I wouldn't have done (z). I'm constantly measuring myself. And when I've decided I don't pass muster, I feel pain. Self hatred. Shame.
This line of thinking basically funnels into only one possible acceptable path: be perfect. If you're perfect - the anxiety seems to say - I'll leave you alone.
Of course, the trouble is that I am not perfect. Being perfect is famously impossible, but that doesn't really matter to my anxiety. Because somewhere along the way, I received the message that it's not okay to make mistakes. Or to fail. Or even just be bad at something.
I'm sure there are many reasons why I ended up with this particular mental cocktail. But the reasons don't matter. The feeling matters. The way I treat myself matters. And right now, I am not treating myself well. That needs to change.
I'm posting this because I know that many of you struggle with anxiety. Any time I've talked about my experience, so many folks have shared their own similar challenges. So here's to all of us:
You are allowed to make mistakes.
You are allowed to be imperfect.
You are allowed to fail.
You deserve to get help.
You deserve to feel loved.
You deserve to feel better.
Go get 'em, tiger. I'm happy you're here.
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Hi! So, I'm queer. One of those old fashioned pansexuals you may have heard of. Probably not a shocker -- like half the characters I play are members of the rainbow fam. 🧵:
Nevertheless, I've hemmed and hawed about whether or not an official Coming Out was something I needed or wanted to do. Particularly because I feel like a poser -- I've been dating a man for five years. Pretty un-gay of me.
I also have always liked the idea that Coming Out isn't something I should feel obligated to do. Straight people don't have to announce their hetero-ness -- it's taken as default.
We've passed the two month mark of the quarantine, and I have not been doing very well. (thread:)
The first few weeks were troubling - frightening. Characterized by a tremendous amount of uncertainty. Terror about food shortages, an overwhelm of medical systems, a looming and invisible threat disproportionately striking the most vulnerable groups, as most threats seem to.
But despite the fear, there was a small, strange comfort to the universality of the experience. No matter who you were or where you lived, you were going through the same thing as every other person on the planet. The globe felt global.
Many of you know that five years ago, I lost my partner. His death was sudden, unexpected, and it completely shattered my world. The grief of his loss has changed me irrevocably - in ways that are both beautiful and challenging.
Death is as frightening and hard as it is inevitable. But it *is* inevitable. We will lose people when we expect it, and when we don’t. We will lose people when they’re old, and when they’re far too young.