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0 By Kelly (Mum in a Daydream)
Really, you’d have to be as nuts as I am to date me. My anxiety disorder often manifests itself in over-thinking. I can work myself up into a frenzy about situations that are never going to happen. I can decide what OTHER people are thinking about me and make that a fact in my mind. I grab hold of one comment someone has made and obsess over it relentlessly, make the highest mountain of the tiniest molehill and it always ends with me being in a panic.
So I can either drive myself even more nuts worrying about it or I can laugh at how ridiculous I am at times.
I choose the latter.
It has become apparent that dating is the ideal place for my anxious over-thinking to thrive. Let’s face it, in this kind of scenario EVERYONE is trying to put the best version of themselves forward. You want to be liked. That’s how it works.
Poor unfortunate souls who date me though? They’re already fighting an uphill battle.
What he’ll say: “You look amazing tonight.”
What I’ll take from that: “Aaw, he fancies me! I’m rocking this dress!” Errrrm, hang on a minute. I look amazing TONIGHT? Has he been thinking I look rubbish every other time he’s seen me? Oh my! What on Earth was I wearing last time? I must burn that outfit immediately!
What he’ll say: “You can choose where we eat. I’ll eat anything.”
What I’ll take from that: “Ah, how considerate, he knows I’ve got odd little food ‘quirks’ … Oh wait – he obviously thinks I’m really high maintenance! He said he’ll eat anything – the undertone being that I’m a problem; my food dislikes are the barrier to us eating somewhere nice. He’s going to think I’m too much hard work and dump me!”
What he’ll say: “I’ve found us a new cocktail bar to try, you’ll love it.”
What I’ll take from that: “He’s so cute thinking of me when I’m not there… although – ‘us’?? Did he just use ‘us’? Bloody hell, stop pressurising me, stop trying to encroach on my space! You’ll be trying to move in next! While we’re at it – ‘I’ll love it?!’ Sure, we’ve done cocktails often. Sure, I’ve always raved about how much I’ve enjoyed it. Sure, he’s been lovely enough to take time to get to know my likes and dislikes. Thinking he knows what I’ll love though? Cheek of it! Slow down Mr Telepathic!”
What he’ll say: “You’re fantastic to be around, I’m so relaxed around you.”
What I’ll take from that: “Yay! Yay! Hot guy thinks I’m great… Relaxed, though? Relaxed? Is he saying I’m boring? Like he’s so ‘relaxed’ he’s borderline comatose because my company is so dull?”
What he’ll say: “I’ve got you a surprise!”
What I’ll take from that: “Ooh, he’s so into me he’s getting me gifts! Eeeek, this is awesome! Surprise, though, WHY FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DOES IT HAVE TO BE A SURPRISE? It could be anything, what if it’s something I don’t like and I’ve gotten this whole scenario wrong thinking he really gets me to discover he really doesn’t? He knows about my anxiety, why is the word surprise even in his vocabulary?”
And upon receiving lovely, thoughtful gift: “Yes, but what does it MEAN though?”
*Brain explodes*
I mean, I think I do quite well and manage to control the over-thinking most of the time and I can certainly cover up the underlying rabidness, but I’ve also come to accept this is just part of what makes me me. The right guy will find it endearing I’m sure. Or learn to live with it, at least. I have to!
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Reproduced with permission, originally published here
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