What It’s Like To Be In Love When You Have Concealed Anxiety

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“Yeah, he’s probably cheating on you” anxiety would tell me when my boyfriend wouldn’t call me back when he was out. My anxiety doesn’t care that I am in a relationship with a boy who lights up when he sees me, looking at me like I’m the most beautiful girl in the world.

Anxiety doesn’t care about our raw, intimate moments that make me feel safe, alive, driving me to rethink what “love” really means because I’ve never felt such electricity before. Anxiety would still tell me, “yeah, you can’t trust him..”

I have been over-thinking for as long as I can remember. But I have also been bold, outgoing, rebellious. My personality is humorous by nature and there’s nothing I can’t eventually laugh at. It’s definitely a conundrum. I don’t like people seeing me struggle – I hide my symptoms very well.

I’ll never talk about my panic attacks – my symptoms are never obvious like hyperventilating – but instead can take on a lot of weird forms like racing or unwanted thoughts, fatigue, overwhelming worry, self-consciousness and uneasiness.

My anxiety doesn’t care about how blunt or bold I am or how many people I connect with. People are quick to remind me how much they love me, but I am just as quick to be overcome with doubt.

Ironically, this keeps people attached to me because I will always remain empathetic – I know all too well what emotional pain feels like and I’ll drop everything to try and ease others people’s worries.

People come to me with their worries because I’m highly intuitive – I’m always aware of other people’s motives and I will always find out the truth. *Evil Laugh*

Being in love with concealed anxiety is at times frightening. I will always question the relationship. Whether or not they really love me. Whether or not I could trust them.

Anxiety: Okay but what if – Me: Really homie? We already resolved this. Anxiety: Yeah but I’ve looked at it from a new angle and there’s just like one more thing you should worry about it. Me: ……dammit. Go on.

In my early twenties, my anxiety made me fear for my life. I was certain I would never be capable of being in a trusting relationship, I was certain there was something wrong with me.

But I was very wrong. Through the years, ironically, my anxiety always kept me moving forward. Anxiousness is actually an evolutionary function that essentially keeps us alive by making us aware of our surroundings and other people’s motives – and once I’ve learned to manage it effectively, it has actually brought positive things into my life.

I’m hyper-aware and highly intuitive, and a lot of my creativity and unpretentiousness stems for my anxiety. I’m a deep thinker, and great problem-solver. One of the benefits of anxiety is that you literally think about everything. I mean, c’mon, that has to count for something.

Every day is not a struggle anymore. I am still extremely uncomfortable with my boyfriend seeing me in pain, and I still keep my worries hidden – I don’t think that will ever change.

Any pain in my body still leads me to imagine the worst case scenario, hangovers are crippling, and my boyfriend not texting me back for hours will still at times fuel my anxiety, feeding it the “evidence” it needs to prove that he’s with someone he likes more.

But I’m also always moving forward – I have an all-or-nothing personality and even though anxiety can cause annoying doubt at the most inconvenient of times, the constant feeling that there’s something more I could be doing with my life keeps me driven.

Anxiety will do its best to convince you that you can’t trust your partner, that they will eventually leave you and that there’s something wrong with you. Never listen.

The harder you slam a ball into the ground, the higher it bounces back up. Understand that when people fall in love with you, they fall in love with all of you, all your imperfections too.

Your flaws in chemistry are flawless – you might hate your state but remember that it is also those very edges that make you interesting, that make you, you. In the words of Stephen Hawking: without imperfection, neither you nor I would exist.

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