This is one of those posts where I comment on anxiety, not from the perspective of a learned student of psychology, but more from personal experience.
If you’ve ever watched Eastenders, or any stormy soap opera for that matter, you’ll be aware that the writers of the show like playing with you, like someone with a ball of yarn plays with their cat (yes I realise this is an analogy within an analogy, deal with it!).
You are constantly made to jump from good things that happen to bad things that happen. It’s like a rollercoaster sometimes, where they are all celebrating in the Queen Vic pub in one scene and you just know (oh shit…) that there’s something terrible about to happen around the corner.
When you are experiencing anxiety, this is all too familiar a feeling.
You are in a group of friends, and are having the time of your life. And yet something is at the back of your mind, almost an inner killjoy that says “Well, things are going real well. But we know life, don’t we. And you better be ready because something is going to spoil the party.”
I hate that voice. It’s the stupid chattering monkey voice I mentioned in another post. It’s our job to tell it to shut the f*ck up sometimes.
Because we’re not Grant Michell, living in an episode of Eastenders. We’re a normal human being.
There are no writers behind your life. (Well, unless you live in the Truman Show) You don’t have to be so afraid. Things CAN GO WELL sometimes. And like a wise woman once told me, there’s a fine line between anxiety, and actually being excited about life.
So go on, be excited. It’s all good. And if it’s not, it will be. Because writers have to write good scenes too.
