I have an anxiety disorder.
I am currently seeking treatment for this disorder and am, in fact, writing this post from the waiting room at my therapist's office. The disorder that I have is called "trichotillomania," and it is marked by the pulling-out of hair as a response to anxiety situations. While some people jog, watch TV, bite their nails, and eat when they feel anxious . . . I play with and pull out my hair. I'm not proud of it, and I even feel shame and anxiety admitting it "out loud" (albeit, it written form.)
I thought that it would be a brilliant idea for me to take enough classes this semester so that I would only have to take nine hours my final semester at UT. I thought that fifteen hours on campus, three hours online, ten to twelve hours working, and weekly meetings and workouts would be no problem. I can learn to be organized, right? When I registered for these classes six months ago, I hadn't realized that I would be engaged throughout my Fall semester and have the need to plan a wedding. Kudos to James for making it a surprise, because I have wanted this for so long that I didn't think that I would be surprised when he proposed to me. Here I am, the end of October, and I finally realized that I have bitten off more than I can chew.
Rather than spit out any of the commitments that I have made, I think that I may just gnaw on them a while until they are a nice mushy texture that I can swallow. It's going to feel overwhelming for a little while, but eventually I'll be able to accomplish what I set out to. Planning our wedding won't be easy and I have finally realized that I need James' help to do so. I am finally realizing the strength of my support network, and with this network and a little extra help from my therapist I think that I just might make it through this semester in one piece.
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