In which anxieties take a nasty turn

otherwise known as, I hope the usage of Zooey Deschanel’s face makes this less serious than it is

I am an extremist.

That word never has a good connotation. Be it religious or political extremism, it is hardly ever a good thing. If you’re a ‘positive extremist’ you are given a different title: a philanthropist, a humanitarian. The word ‘extremist’ drags the baggage of negativity along with it.

While my extremism will not put me on the cover of a newspaper (or rather make me a Twitter Trending Topic), it always leaves me feeling awful. My extremism is in relation to my emotions. I wish I could keep a lid on things but much like a filled kettle placed over a heat source for a long time, things bubble over and I scream.

And that can be literal screaming or a metaphorical one.

I have screamed at someone because of how angry I got- resentment had built up over a period of time and the infamous straw that broke the camel’s back whacked mine, but instead of keeling over, I shouted and swore like I have never done before.

635951197353582256-66872367_635824391761383290-1631324941_635728747560349217-1105884667_new20girl20-20shut20up

Is that good thing? No. Not at all.

Metaphorical screaming, in the sense of things bubbling over due to emotional unrest would be a day like today when body issues just smacked me on the head. I know, this is a popular tune you’ve heard year in and year out, never fading from the charts. A ‘current issue’ that has yet to be resolved despite multiple celebrities speaking up about ‘body acceptance’. While Ashley Graham’s confidence in the face of all her ‘haters’ is an inspiration, it doesn’t dim the hater that is within yourself.

I judge myself by the number I see on the scale. I judge myself for not doing the work it takes to get to a number I’m happy with. And I don’t know if it is truly wrong to think that way. As someone who has spent five years dedicating her life to being part of the medical field, I know for a fact that I am unhealthy, that the ratio of my hips to my waist means that I am more likely to die of a heart attack or have cardiovascular complications in the future.

tumblr_m6ukjyzqsb1r31ngfo1_500

So when events in the past 24 hours made me look at myself again and feel ridiculously emotional, I wanted to revert to an old habit, another extreme. But I’m better at not doing that, so I didn’t. Instead I threw myself into cleaning because that’s the one positive I could come up with.

It is difficult when you look at yourself and want to change so much. I know part of it a mental component, that satisfaction with what you see reflected back at you is something everyone struggles with, but there are also facts, irrefutable facts that make me cringe.

Being a houseman/intern will be challenging two years. I would need to figure out how balance the physical, the emotional and the external adversities that will be coming my way.

While I understand that there are things outside my circle of control, there are also things I can get a grip on. I just hope I can.

crazy

One thought on “In which anxieties take a nasty turn

Leave a comment