I remember three years ago, having a conversation with someone about my anxiety. How I was too anxious to go see someone about it. I’ve had anxiety for as long as I can remember, although my memories fade so easily. Compulsive list making and worrying is all that I know. It’s my dysfunctional functioning. My blog name even began as Anxious Antics.
I’ve been back in South Africa for just over a month. South Korea may be many things, but understanding of mental illness, they are not. I did make an appointment once with the western Psychologist in Seoul, but canceled at the last minute. I told myself that I would visit my family doctor when I got back to South Africa.
My mother has always babied me. Up until the day I got on that plane, and left for Korea. Even being out of the country, I am still in contact with her every day. Being home – feels like I never left. I feel like I am the incapable youngest child again. My mother would take me to all of my doctors appointments and sit in with me. When I exclaimed to her, in tears one day, late High School or early University that I wanted to visit a doctor about my anxiety, she told me to brush it off. That, I tried.
I visited my doctor today. I worried for three years what I would tell him. How and what could I say to convey to him how I had been feeling. As I almost tried to memorise a speech, it of course failed and the words just poured out. I feel as though he really understood what I was saying/going through and not just being a robot doctor. He gave me an analogy of how my brain works, and it made sense. I’ve been prescribed anti depressants for my anxiety and OCD tendencies. I start tomorrow. Yes, I am nervous but I have hope that it’ll allow me to be me, without stress that overcomes me.
Regardless, I feel quite proud of myself for what I did today.