These Conflicting Thoughts

I really enjoy painting. I've begun painting with my fingers and find the whole process to be highly therapeutic. Of course, during the act of painting and as the painting is finished, my anxiety sits back and tells me how they are not good enough and how everyone will hate them.

I'm painting, though, and so I'm relaxed and "in the zone",so it's easier to ignore the anxiety voice. There is a very large part of me way, way deep down that honestly believes I have some talent, and when I hang onto that bit of confidence I get more willpower to fight off the anxiety bit.

Yesterday I painted the above picture of the jellyfish. It gave me a lot more anxiety then I am used to from paintings.

My General Anxiety Disorder manifests itself as fear of medical things. I mean things like coma, heart attack, stroke, etc. My current worst fear is having a seizure. I have never had a seizure, and- if I'm lucky- I probably never will have a seizure. I have no seizure risk factors. In addition to all that, I've met with people who have varying degrees of epilepsy and all of them, even the girl with severe Grand Mal seizures, has told me it is not nearly as terrible as I make it out to be.

But it scares me so very much.

And because I have so much anxiety, I try to counter my fear by looking up as much information as I can about the subject so I can be well-informed.
This is rarely ever a good idea, because I have severe Hypochondria. Given enough time on webMD, I'd probably start thinking I have testicle cancer when I don't even have the proper bits for that.

So that brings me to my painting. I've learned, though my seizure-research, that some people who suffer from photo-sensitive epilepsy can have a seizure from certain colors or patterns being placed together. Lately, my paintings have been full of loud clashing colors.

I had a headache because I have not been sleeping properly, but my anxiety didn't recognize it as a sleep deprivation headache.

My anxiety said: "That headache? That's an oncoming seizure from all these loud, bright colors."

I had, through the entirety of the painting, to fight off my heart racing and my need to hyperventilate. I kept un-focusing and re-focusing my eyes which only made me dizzy which only fueled my anxiety more.

I had to take a lot of breaks. But I finished it, and I'm really proud that I did.

Cheyanne: 1 ::::: Anxiety: 0

Now, I have to do something that is causing me more anxiety. A lot more anxiety.

At the moment, I am getting ready to go to a craft fair/fundraiser to sell my paintings and other crafts I've made. This far, I've had no issue selling the things I've made.

Today, that has changed.

For all my talk about how much my paintings suck and how they'll never be good enough, I've begun to recognize that they really aren't so bad at all and they've grown on me.

As such, I don't want to sell them.

"Then don't sell them."

Ah, easy for you to say. There are two factors pushing me to sell them despite me really not wanting to.

A) I need the money. I am not working and my family's funds are incredibly limited at the moment. This would give me money to buy extra things that I would like to have without worrying about making a dent in my family's bank. Plus, with both usb ports on my computer broken, I really need to get that fixed so I can do digital art again.

B) My boyfriend wants me to. I'm sure this comes off as controlling, but it isn't. He recognizes my need for money, and encourages me in a constantly-positive way to overcome my anxiety. He knows I can always paint more jellyfish, while my anxiety is telling me that the above painting will be the only good jellyfish I ever paint- ever- and so I should keep it. Plus, he is overly positive about my art and tries to get it out there any chance he gets.

I feel like I'm going to have to enter survivor mode.

Survivor Mode is when I shut down emotionally and sort of plough through tough situations because I know I should. I wish I could get through these things without becoming a robot, but if I let myself feel then the only things I will fear is anger, anxiety, and distress because I'm so scared and uncomfortable. So instead of feeling that, I opt for feeling nothing at all.

I am going to try to remember the positives here. I am starting to love my paintings, so it would be awesome if other people loved them too. I'd really like to sell my work in a gallery one day, and this is a great start to that. No one would buy my stuff if they knew I was sort of going through this internal struggle, but I want people to like my art enough to want to buy it.

I am absolutely excellent at pep talking myself, by the way.

See, at the start of this post I was anxious about dealing with people and selling my work. In one small "Yay, Me! This isn't so bad! Think of the positives!" paragraph I'm already ready to get out there and get the job done!

This is why I'm eternally grateful to have this small little space to write things out. I need to work through things visually. It really does help to go through the entire process.

I know not wanting to sell my art comes from a feeling of not ever being able to paint something good again. That is my anxiety. My anxiety is not me.

Me really wants to go sell my art, and meet art-minded people. It's just the struggle of who I pay attention to, myself or my anxiety.

I pick myself. I always have more fun that way.

I am going to go out, meet some awesome people, and hopefully sell my art!

Cheyanne: 2 ::::: Anxiety: 0

It was a close call for a minute there, anxiety. But I win, again. =)

Allow Us to Introduce Ourselves..

This is Me.

My name is Cheyanne, and I am a lot of things. I am 20 years old (at the time of this writing). I am female. I am an artistic bookworm. I am a painter. I am a folklorist. I am a daughter, a sister, and an aunt. I am a proud pet owner. I am someone's partner, I am someone's friend. I am a daydreamer, a poet, a writer and musician. I am childish, but mature. I am a (huge) geek.

I enjoy nature. I enjoy curling up with a good cup of hot chocolate. I love to learn. I want to learn about cultures and people. I want to communicate and connect. I want to inspire and be inspired.

I love to dance. I love to sing- though it is loudly and off key. I love coffee and hate tea. I dress like a hippie and eat like a pig.

I am curvy. I am nerdy. I am an outgoing introvert. I am hotheaded and prideful, but also sensitive and nuturing. I am funny, intelligent, and creative.

This is who I feel I am, and how I wish others could see me. Unfortunately, I am part of a package deal....

This is My Anxiety

This is my anxiety. My anxiety is my moderate Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. My Anxiety is my mild-to-moderate Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. It is my severe General Anxiety Disorder and Panic Disorder. It is my Attention Deficient Hyperactivity Disorder. It is my Compulsive Skin Picking Disorder. It is my Depression and my Body Dysmorphic Disorder. It is my Hypochondria.

My anxiety is the feeling that I am not good enough. It is the nagging voice that constantly criticizes every single thing I do every step of the way. It is me never doing just the right thing and never succeeding. It is the impossible expectations I put on myself, just so I can live up to how I feel everyone else is, but it is the constant whisper that it doesn't matter because everyone will always be better than me anyway.

My anxiety is like "Big Brother". It is the feeling of not being allowed to do anything. Not being allowed to jump into a pool wearing a dress, or to go to the Beach at night, because someone somewhere will be angry at me for it. It imposes it's strict rules on me and makes me worry about putting a single toe out of line.

My anxiety is the feeling that everyone hates me. My anxiety is the feeling of hating myself.

My anxiety makes me feel like the world is out to get me. My anxiety turns every knock on the door into a burglar, every passerby-er on the street into a rapist.
My anxiety makes me jump at loud noises and afraid to sleep in the dark.

My anxiety tells me how much fun my friends are having without me, how much my parents must hate me, and how one day the man I love with all my heart will leave me- and he'll be better off for it because no one deserves to be with damaged goods like me anyway.

My anxiety is darkness, despair, loneliness. It is anger, pain, and panic.

But it is not me.

And that is the important part to remember.
It is not me.

I have the above listed disorders. They do not have me. This is something I have to constantly remind myself on the road to getting better. Things like my Post Traumatic Stress Disorder will never go away, but I refuse to sit back and say I cannot control my behavior. I want to have a say in my life, and I say that I do not want to worry my life away.

I am not foolish, but I am optimistic. I am working hard to work around my Disorders and not let them run my life.

It is an almost constant battle. Everyday is like a fear roulette that I cannot seem to win. I wake up and don't look right so I have to pick apart my appearance and then someone knocks on the door oh God is it a rapist? Then the worry gives me a stress headache but my anxiety translates that to mean I have a brain tumor and I am going to die.
It is never ending and never easy, but I refuse to give up.

My anxiety has already caused me health problems, including a Mitro Valve Prolapse and a Heart Murmur. If I don't stop worrying and learn to better control my anxiety, I can get Fibro along with a whole host of other nasty health issues I would really like to not experience.

I am not crazy. I am not violent. I am not unstable. I am not suicidal and I do not hurt myself (or others!).

I am in control.

I made this blog to sort of keep a record of my recovery from my anxiety, but also to give myself space to write things out and reason with myself. I find that I can calm myself down when I can better visualize my thinking process, and putting it into writing really helps that. I keep using my boyfriend's email inbox to do so, however, so it's nice to finally have my own space.

I can't promise I'll always be this sane. Every day is a battle, and I don't always win. Sometimes courage is not facing your fears head on, but instead it is the small voice that says "It's okay that you didn't do so good today, but you can try again tomorrow."

And that's what I can promise. To try. I will try my hardest to remain calm and positive. I will try to set a good example for those suffering with anxiety disorders who feel like everything is the end of the world. (It's not!) I will try to shed some light on what goes on in the mind of someone who does have mental disorders, to help people understand.

I have anxiety disorders, but they don't have me.