Anxiety Blog 4: Am I Having An Existential Crisis?An Exploration into (A Lack of) Self-Worth

What am I worth? Do I hold any value? Do I contribute anything positive to the people around me and to society? How can people like me if I don’t even like myself? What even is the ‘self’ anyway and is it an artificial construction?

These are the thoughts that swirl around my brain like a stormy tornado daily. And I am stuck in the middle. Dark thoughts spin around me faster and faster- whether or not the situation itself is actually worsening- and I feel as though they are going to engulf me. I want to see through the treacherous haze, but everything is a dark blur.

A couple of months back, I ended a loving relationship. It was my decision, and because of this, I felt that I was a bad person and that I “deserved” to be unhappy. I had isolated myself under the pretence that I wanted to be by myself, but I quickly learned that I didn’t enjoy my own company. This led to a downward spiral of self-loathing, extremely low self-esteem, and a complete dissolution of any confidence that I formerly had. I began to think that I was even more ugly than before. I started to refuse to look in the mirror unless it was to put make-up on, and even that made me feel worse because I resented the fact that I was trying to look like somebody else. I was having several anxiety attacks a day (complete with vomiting, shaking and pins and needles due to a lack of oxygen), as well as a mirage of dark thoughts that would not go away.

For the first time in ten years, I was thinking of harming myself.

I’m not really sure how I made it into work every day. I was exhausted, anxious, depressed and I carried a bottomless pit in my stomach everywhere I went. I guess I liked the distraction of the busy office. I think I also knew that if I was around people then I was a little safer from my thoughts. It was as five or six o’clock creeped closer and closer that things would get worse. Most evenings I was able to visit friends or family, but if I couldn’t I would obsess over past situations and sob by myself until there were no more tears to cry. I would sit with my knees pushed against my chest, rocking back and forth, thinking over and over again that I was a bad person and didn’t deserve happiness. As I write this, I still feel the same way.

Depression is a solitary experience; there are no fevers, no rashes, no blood tests to send people scurrying in concern, just the slow erosion of self. Because the illness is not necessarily physical, I was constantly worried that people would think that I was being stupid if I opened up and told them how I was feeling. And guess what, a few of them did. They didn’t “get it”. But, I am (in a sense) lucky enough to have a couple of people in my life who do understand the struggles of mental illness. For a while I isolated myself from them because I did not want to be a burden and take away their happiness. I felt unworthy of people’s love, and as a result I pushed them away. In my head, I thought that I was doing them a favour; I was saving them from me.

I have come to learn though, slowly, that the people who do stick around to listen to you or drive to your house at 11:30pm to make sure you’re okay, are the ones who don’t mind being leaned on. These are the people who you should never push away. Keep in touch with your friends and family. Make new friends at work. Get to know people better over a few beers. Go to meditation or yoga. Light some candles and run yourself a bubble bath. Tuck into a tub of Ben & Jerries whilst watching a corny Rom-Com.

And above all, remember that it’s okay to not be okay.