Anxiety sucks


Rivka Korf

These days I find myself oscillating between anger and wanting to give up.

Last week I wasn’t doing so well due to an attack of severe dizziness and a surreal floating feeling. It got bad enough that I missed almost three days of work. I mentioned it to my doctor at my appointment last week and he quickly diagnosed (without even checking) an inner ear issue (Labyrinthitis) He said I just need to live with it and it’ll go away eventually. My therapist thinks it’s anxiety. After my posting last week about my doctor titled don’t make me feel unimportant, I am going to lean towards what my therapist is saying.

He isn’t big on dropping diagnoses and I am totally okay with that. It also means that when he says something I pay attention. In the almost three years that I’ve been seeing him the only two things that he’s ever mentioned are dissociation and anxiety. Now maybe in his file cabinet he has a shitload of things he has diagnosed me with, but if he doesn’t mention them to me, then I don’t consider the possibilities. And I sure as hell am not going to ask him.

This mention of anxiety feels strange to me. I don’t know why, it just does. I suppose it wasn’t something I ever thought I had. Sure, when things get tough I develop that sudden, gripping feeling of fear and helplessness that is accompanied by other scary symptoms such as a pounding heart, tingling hands, dizziness, chest pain and the feeling like I’m about to lose my fucking mind. Absolutely I have nightmares and flashbacks. Without a doubt I dissociate more than I should.

I believe somewhere along the line it sometimes happens where you fail to recognize that what you feel is not what everyone else feels. Your ‘normal’ is anything but. And when someone mentions something, it makes you step back and think. In a lot of ways I guess I’ve been lucky because I’ve done okay for the most part irregardless of those issues. Last week though, it really got to me.

I had been reading a woman’s story. I’ve read lots of stories and none of them have seemed to affect me the way that one did. I didn’t really understand it. Things just weren’t connecting for me. Part of her story felt so different than mine, but there was something about it that had obviously bothered me. Something about it triggered a pretty nasty anxiety attack (I didn’t know that’s what it was at the time, but now I do).

We talked about it at our meeting on Friday. I told him it was a different story, not like mine at all and the reaction seemed so unnecessary. He didn’t really agree and followed it up with ‘no matter how hard we try to bury things and run from our past, it tends to find us at the most inopportune moments’.

I went silent. Apparently, something that I thought I had dealt with and gotten over had not been dealt with at all.

Maybe our stories weren’t so different after all, I thought to myself. Now what do I do? Share the story or not?

I still find it hard to share things sometimes. He knows almost all of my story, not in any cohesive timeline, but enough to understand. This part though, was one of the things I had never told him. On Friday I knew that if I didn’t tell him then, I wouldn’t tell him at all. So my pencil and my paper told him (I’ll share another day). I asked him to read what I had written, but not out loud. He said he was glad I had shared it with him.

I’ve noticed a certain feeling increasing since I told him. Anger. I feel angry.


The people who choose to abuse, molest and rape have a sense of entitlement. It’s all about them. They are manipulative, ruthless and vain. They believe that they deserve happiness and go to great, sometimes extreme lengths to ensure it happens, always at the expense of others. They punish. They look out for themselves, their needs and desires more than anyone else. They always come first because they believe they are better and more important. They love to assert their dominance or superiority over other people.

Where does the sense of entitlement come from? How does someone get to the point where they believe they are the center of the universe, and if the universe doesn’t meet their needs and desires, all hell will break loose? How can they not understand that other people don’t merely exist to serve their needs and wants?

It’s a lot to deal with when your entire being has been violated again and again. Your past is there, just under the surface, ALL THE FUCKING TIME. It waits silently and just when you think things are starting to feel better it comes out and bites you in the ass. You can’t outrun it. You can’t hide from it.

It’s a lot to ask of people who have lived through horrible experiences to keep working through it. It’s exhausting, frustrating and completely unfair. And this thing called anxiety. It really, really sucks!

3 thoughts on “Anxiety sucks

  1. Pingback: methinks I might need a new doctor | This Takes Courage

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