I wish it were that simple. I wish I could just become fearless, and stop overthinking every little thing. But, as far as I'm aware, I really can't just "get over" whatever freaks me out. Trust me, I've been in intensive therapy since I was five years old. No amount of EMDR, meditation, or exposure therapy has done anything to help me. If anything, it may have actually made things worse. 

Knowing that, what do I do? Well, for the most part, I just do what I've always done: never let my anxiety/fear/discomfort show, no matter how scared or worried I become. While that may protect some of my pride, it doesn't do anything else beneficial. It just wreaks havoc within me in the moment, and comes out in sobs when I'm finally alone and in the safety of my house.

If I were to wear a heart-rate monitor for 24 hours (which I've actually done), it would show my heart-rate spiking up to 200 beats-per-minute many times per day. Not because I'm doing any rigorous exercising (when I'm doing cardio, my heart-rate rarely goes faster than 140 beats-per-minute), but because I'm experiencing something that is very distressing and scary for me. Which, to be entirely honest, is damn near everything at this point. 

I still get a major rush of adrenaline every time I sit down in the driver's seat, and I still exit my Xterra a little jittery once I reach my destination. My palms still get clammy whenever I approach my college campus. I get very jumpy when I'm hiking alone and the wind kicks up, making it harder for me to hear and see approaching wildlife (and if I'm hiking with other people, I stay very close to them and am constantly watching our backs). I will never sleep in a room with a porcelain doll in it. Every time I talk to someone new, even with a trusted friend or family member there to introduce me and get things going, I'm panicking on the inside. And, don't even get me started with flying in a commercial airplane!

Those things merely scratch the surface of everything that gives me some level of unreasonable anxiety. I understand that a certain level of anxiety and discomfort are normal and even good for people. But, it's not normal to get a stinging chill down your spine whenever your dad calls you (which happens to me, because half the time he's called me in the past, it was to deliver some crushing news, such as the loss of my grandparents). Nor is it normal to get exceptionally nervous at the sound of thunder or the doorbell, or to pull over on the side of the road to puke after giving a presentation to a small class. Yet, that's exactly what I go through, and I'm fucking sick of it!

Again, I wish I could just be like those who don't have a mile-long list of social and other phobias. I wish I could just get on an airplane, drive a random rental car downtown, and go to some fancy wine party, where I can confidently introduce myself to new people and finish off the night with a karaoke competition. Because, that's what I grew up with: a pack of highly extroverted, socially and emotionally intelligent, touchy-feely-huggy-squeezy, rambunctious city slickers full of overwhelming wanderlust and a desire to do everything that I absolutely hated.

Naturally, I grew up feeling like a total freak and irreparably broken. Only now am I learning that I'm not a freak or even slightly broken. I'm just different from most of the people I've lived with my entire life, which isn't just "not bad", but should be something I should celebrate and be proud of. The bulk of my anxiety, worries, and phobias all stem from a life of misdiagnoses and shitty life circumstances. Now that I've been properly diagnosed as Autistic (only took nineteen fucking years), and have my Cystic Fibrosis under control, I can now begin to dissect my life, and figure out what caused what. 

In the case of being Autistic, I'm highly sensitive to the world around me. It's why I've only worn jeans, T-shirts, hoodies, fluffy socks, and boots since I was old enough to choose my own clothes. It's why high-frequency noises (including pitches most human ears can't pick up, like dog whistles and that godforsaken ringing noise old TVs make), hurt my teeth the same way an ice cube hurts them (I can't even begin to explain how that's possible, but it is). It's why I hate all forms of touch that I don't consent to or control (such as if someone drags me into a hug without my permission, or the wind blows my hair the "wrong" way), yet need it in certain situations to feel safer. It's why passing headlights of any kind give me a headache at night. It's why I gag whenever I eat yogurt or eggs. It's why I wrap up unfamiliar pillows with one of my hoodies if I'm staying at someone else's house, and am very particular about the shampoo I use (because I'm now very sensitive to smell since regaining it two years ago). It's why I avoid groups of five or more people as much as possible. On and on. 

In the case of my Cystic Fibrosis, I'm highly alert of everything I touch and expose myself to. I've been hoarding hand sanitizer and masks long before it was cool. If someone even clears their throat around me, and I can't tell if they're sick, I'll instinctively hold my breath and move away from them. It's why I avoid going to the hospital for any reason, and why I get extremely anxious whenever I have to go in for even the simplest of check-ups. It's why my veins shrink up whenever I have to get my blood drawn. It's why I ask a million questions about every little thing at the hospital, and don't let someone do something to me until they tell me exactly what they're doing, why they're doing it, and what to expect from it. It's why my worst nightmares are those that occur in the hospital or an ambulance. It's why I have such severe PTSD; PTSD that I'm not sure how to properly take care of at this point. 

There's so much more that goes into my anxiety, but CF and ASD are the two big ones that impact it. Yet, I'm still at a loss at how to best control my anxiety or overcome it, given just everything I've talked about so far. Right now, I'm simply enduring it, but I'm not sure if that's the healthiest way to go about it, considering I get so tired and physically sick from simply grinning and bearing the anxiety. I don't think it's normal or healthy to skip period cycles, break out in severe acne, lose clumps of hair, develop cold sores and pink eye, and lose lots of weight during times of increased anxiety. I would like to stop dealing with that crap, but I don't know how, and my doctors and therapists don't seem to know either. 

I know there must be a solution to this major problem of mine. If Cystic Fibrosis can be almost cured by three little daily pills, then surely there must be a way to bring my depression and anxiety to heel as well. But, emotionally, I feel like I've tried it all. If no amount of yoga, prayer, support from family and friends, exposure therapy, talk therapy, group therapy, EMDR, practice, medication, experience, healthy eating and exercise, muscle relaxation exercises, grounding exercises, rest, distraction, etc, etc. can rein in my depression and anxiety, then what can? What if I'm just stuck living like this forever? What if I literally go crazy and throw myself off a cliff one day? What if, what if, what if? 

I try not to think that way, though it's hard not to believe I'll live the rest of my life an anxious, depressed wreck. Because, I know there must be a set of solutions that will make my life a lot less scary and depressing. Maybe I've just been doing EMDR and exposure therapy wrong all along, and I ought to give them both a second chance with just a different approach. Maybe if I work very hard to notice even the slightest of skipped heartbeats, I can identify exactly what caused it, and work on controlling my body so my heart doesn't skip a beat in response to whatever made it skip in the first place. Maybe if I spend a whole month meticulously noticing and writing down my symptoms and situations, I'll be able to identify common patterns that I can then work with in therapy, using tools that previously didn't work. 

I mean, I've learned so much about myself over the last couple of years. Surely, my approach to treating my anxiety and depression will be very different, even if I use the same tools that failed me in the past. Of course, I'll only know this if I try it. Maybe there will be a sudden breakthrough if I re-use old tools knowing what I now know. Maybe I will one day live free from the bulk of my depression and anxiety, finding peace and joy and comfort in things that once terrified me. Hell, it would be great if I could just go about my daily life without freaking out over the stupidest things. 

I wonder what it's like to live in the present, without a worry of the future or an open wound from the past. I wonder what it's like to live phobia-free, to talk to strangers without shivering and overthinking every word hours later, to have confidence in the most stressful situations, to not have a plan for every problem and mishap one's mind can conjure up. I wonder what it's like to just be totally relaxed in life. To live without a single tense muscle or racing thought.

Currently, I can't even begin to imagine what that must be like. I only know such a life exists because a lot of people I meet and get to know live that way. Of course, those people tend to be rather impulsive in life, rarely considering the consequences of their actions. But, while that may be true, they are also happy-go-lucky and full of peace. Me, on the other hand? Well, let's just say I know exactly what would happen if (God forbid) I got T-boned by a red light runner at the intersection of Wadsworth and Coal Mine while going 55 MPH, and how I'd handle it. And I know when the rustling in the bushes is a squirrel, deer, coyote, or cougar before I even catch a glimpse of it. If you see me sprinting down the hiking trail with a spooked expression on my face, you better fucking run too!