Accepting me at last 

Something a I read a little while ago really got me thinking about how and when and why my anxiety and loneliness started. 

I’ve always been a ‘worrier’ and I don’t really remember me being any different.  I remember my anxiety escalating. I remember feeling so out if control and thought I was going mad. I think at that point my anxiety had just reached its peak.

When I was younger I changed schools a few times and then throughout my secondary school I was bullied. We moved onto a council estate that was quite run down at the time and a few girls took a dislike to me. It made me self aware of my flaws and I frequently changed group of friends. 

I always wanted to fit in but I was never good enough, but then I never truly accepted myself. I never appreciated who I was and to accept me. 

My major turning point was a place I use to work at. Now four years on I can probably can say, yes I was bullied. I was bullied as an adult.

Now, this is a major thing for me to say. As at the time I kinda accepted it. I accepted it was me. My fault. I accepted that I was touchy, and sensitive. I couldn’t take a joke.

Now these people called themself’s my ‘friends’. Yes they were my friends. Yet they were the major part of my illness. (Let’s face it anxiety is am illness.)

I was driving home and there was a work night out. I didn’t really have money to kinda waste and felt extremely uncomfortable going. I’m a home body. A quite meal with friends person.   These were loud girls, let’s get trashed and if you didn’t you was ‘boring’ you wasn’t living your life, apprantly I needed to get trashed. But this only made me more anxious.

Alcohol and anxiety don’t go. I will never forget texting my partner that I wanted to come home and one ‘friend’ looked over my shoulder read the text and forever took the micky out of me. ( apprantly my partner was controlling me) not the fact I didn’t want to watch grown women roll on the floor. 

So what did I do? Get wasted. Look like a dick, fell over a lot, and I did the thing I regret most. I believed them.

Most morning were sat before work ridiculing me. I use to laugh, then get in car and cry. 

I belived that there way was the best. I belived their words. I tried to change myself, and to be honest I turned into a cold hearted cow. I changed me. I stopped feeling. My partner begged me to change jobs.  My proper friends told me what these people was. But I went with the crowd like a sheep. 

When I finally seen things for what they were, it was a struggle to escape.  Many nights I cried for the horrible texts I got as I kept avoiding them. I refused to go on night out, I refused to leave my daughter. So then I was ‘boring’ ‘making a rod for myself etc’ they kept getting me in group chats and I’d remove myself. It was so hard.Because I hate offending people I felt I could never say piss of. I could never say how I really felt instead I let them carry on until they dropped me due to me ‘avoiding them’

Along with that, facebook went. Although they no longer talk to me, they rufused to unfriend me. I blocked numbers. I was free.

Free to get myself better. To try and love myself. I still have this major fear of upsetting people. I hate the thought of ever offending anyone regardless how horrible they are. But then I think maybe that’s not such a bad thing. 

I’ve built my friendship back up. My relationship. I’ve started my blog. Doing what I love writing.

 since becoming a mom, I never ever want my daughters to see anyone talk and treat their mom like these people did. I never want them to see its accepted. I want them to love themselves to be happy with what they love and never to be scared of anything they stand for.

I’m still not 100%. I hope one day I’ll be able to put a photo of me on my blog and say :

This is me. I love me. I love writing, reading, good food and few friends. I’m happy to be me.

One day. 

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