F**k you, Anxiety. Why am I so emotional?

Seriously. Why the hell am I so emotional?

My whole life, I’ve been different to most other people. I feel things that other people don’t seem to feel. I feel pain and despair when fictional characters in movies I watch or books I read die. I quite literally can take days or weeks to get over this “mourning phase” of losing that character. I can’t even watch some movies again because I know I couldn’t stand losing that character again!

It doesn’t stop there. I feel sadness and grief if I accidentally kill an ant community in my kitchen sink. I feel scared if I watch an ad of a scary movie and it has ANY resemblance to my real life. I feel anxiety if any trigger comes into my world that could suggest something might go wrong.

Whenever something happens, be it real, fake or downright who bloody knows if its real or fake (hello, Instagram), I feel something. Be that happiness, sadness, grief, disappointment, joy, regret, pity, despair. You name it, I feel it.

I am consumed by emotion and, until recently, I really had no idea to such an extent.

As you all may know, I’ve been on a huge journey to manage some serious mental health issues. These issues being around the idea of severe anxiety and what I like to call consuming negativity*. In this time, I’ve opened up a lot to many people. I’ve shared my story, they’ve shared theirs. Much of the time, when I talk about my unrelenting emotions, there are significant amounts of people who don’t understand.

My partner being one of them. Having a partner who doesn’t feel emotions the same way I do makes it a perfect recipe for understanding some key differences I never really recognised in myself.

And, in short, I now know I am like a train wreck when it comes to managing my emotions.

I never realised how many bloody emotions I had, and how intensely I feel them, compared to those around me. It took me until I started to create some space in my own head to reflect on a lot of the times when I had what you could call “breakdowns”. I would cry, shout, yell, rant, rave, curl in a ball and hope that every piece of pain in my body would leave me when I opened my eyes again. When I explained these situations to others, they couldn’t relate, and it actually gave me an opportunity to realise how different I am.

And you know what? If you’re sitting there thinking, holy Jesus I have found my soul sister. That’s okay, we can work through this together. I am emotional, you might be emotional. It doesn’t make us any less of a person that is worthy of love, respect and happiness.

It might just take us a little more work than the average Joe to find that slice of happiness we are all looking after.

Over and out from a fellow anxious comrade,

Camille xo


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