Anxiety in Life Situations

My vision was swimming. Bookcases, morphed and contorted from their natural construction, slowly drifted towards me, rendering Newton's laws defunct and inoperative. My psychological state was akin to the affects of any psychotropic drug. My stomach, focused on sticking it's next triple axle, voraciously consumed any portion of focus I had remaining. This was unfortunate, for I needed this focus to control my chaotic thoughts long enough to complete one task: exposure.

Tuesdays marked the climax of activity for my week. They included a mundane day at work, followed by a quick subway ride, and topped with a two and a half hour therapy session where experiencing the maximum amount of anxiety possible was the goal - an apparent paradox, for my intentions in participating in therapy were to rid myself of anxiety, not experience more of it.

My visions suddenly stopped and all rushed to my head as the full weight of what I had yet to do fell on my shoulders. I knew better than to believe what TV told me; that asking a girl for her number following a short conversation was in some way natural for a young man - in some way easy. As I understood it, my job was impossible - yet here I was, milling about in Barnes and Noble, deadest on what had to be done.

I threw every rational thought at the idea that something about what I was doing was inexplicably and incredibly wrong, but reversing negative thoughts that have festered and solidified unchecked for years is by no means easy. Despite facing the most asinine task I could imagine - seeking the same feeling I had the intention of ridding myself of - I still felt a slight hint of resoluteness in surviving my plight. Despite my repressive thoughts, the psychological momentum that had accumulated in the direction of freedom over the past two years was more powerful than any hold my anxiety could place on me.

Ignoring the pain and regrets that lay behind me, I could only see my future through the prism of unshakable...