anxiety cultures

My brain cultures my anxiety and makes it thrive and flourish so that good thoughts and feelings are starved to death. Why does my brain do that? Am I doing it? Do I have any control or any saying? I don't want to feed my fear, but somehow it's happening. Yoga and meditating is terrible. Concentrating on my breath freaks me out. In my view who ever said that this would help never had an anxiety disorder. It is very different from being afraid sometimes. Is it really a disorder? Aren't people who don't think about all the bad things that could happen just to narrow minded? Aren't they just naive? In my eyes they seem to be like children that don't know about danger, but it is still exists. I know that this perspective is not right. I'm the one who isn't right, am I? You see sometimes I'm right, my fear was right. Things do happen and in some situations when I tried to ignore the fear it was wrong. That is my dilemma. How do I know which fear is good and which one I should discard? My brain needs a new reliable sorting algorithm. Until then I'm culturing my anxiety even though it's crushing my mind. I lost control a long time ago and trying to gain it back feeds my anxiety even more.

Days

The air is to thick to breathe. My hands feel estranged. The world around me, my Umwelt, is pushing me away. I feel as if I'm not welcome in this world anymore. This is how I feel this morning. This is just to heavy, just let me be, please. But I can't, because I have a family. I love them and they depend on me, as I depend on them. I get myself together and make some breakfast for my family, smiles, true smiles for my kids, because they should and will have a wonderful day. When I was a kid I felt that I would be strong and brave. My mother could send me alone in a plane from Germany to Portugal since I was 4 years old. No problem I was fine and proud of myself. I was always the brave one. People still think that. I guess one could think that from he outside. I try to base my decisions on rationality not fear. We just moved again because of my job. I don't know if it was a good decision. We struggled a lot this time. It is hard to adjust. But we are all doing OK now. I'm proud of my kids, especially the older ones. They learn and adapt so fast. I'm lucky. At work I'm emotionally at my worst. I freak out all the time and I feel lonely. I'm alone with me fear. I can't do this job anymore, but I must. My whole family depends on it, because of the visa. If I loose my job we would all have to leave. So let me explain my story from the beginning: I was born in Portugal. My parents were living in my great-grandmothers house, because my mother was 20 years old and going to college. In this one story 4 bedroom house were living my great-grandmother, my grandmother, my two uncles and my aunt. The first years I was sleeping in my parents room. They didn't get along and were fighting all the time, and when I was about 3 years old they got a divorce. I still remember the fights and how I didn't like that room. Later I shared the room with my aunt. She was 17 when I was born. She was so nice to me, I loved her very much. She was my best friend for many many years. My great-grandmother was a very calm person. She used to play cards with me, buy me candy, dress me way to warm, because she was always cold, and teach me Math. She was very intelligent and very hard working. My grandmother was working in a high school. Her husband dyed young in a car accident. With 31 years she was a widow and never married again. So she moved into her mothers house with her 4 children. Her sister lived close by and helped a lot, because the youngest was only 5 months old and my grandmother had to start working. Thanks to my grandmother none of her children had to work, so that all could finish high school and most of them went to college. We had always pets in the house. This house was really full of life. When my mother met my German father we moved to Germany. He was a physics and chemistry teacher. Our life there was completely different. It was just us in an apartment and it was quiet. People were strict and organized. I missed my home in Portugal very much. After our first visit to Portugal I cried for hours in the car and I hated the feeling of loosing control. Why would nobody listen to me and bring me back home?? I never forgot this feeling. I know why my mother decided to take me with her and now I think that I would have done the same, but many many years I was angry with her and I cried every time after visiting Portugal, when we had to go back to Germany and leave my family behind. I was always split between Germany and Portugal. I integrated very fast into German culture and society and nobody would tell that I was a foreigner, because I spoke without accent. My name was the only thing that gave me away and I always had to explain very personal things about me: I was born in another country and my parents were divorced, so my father was my stepfather. I didn't want to discuss that with anyone, but always when I had to say my full name people would ask all these questions. I was different, always. I wasn't a normal immigrant, because my mother moved to be with a man, not because of a job. My parents were academics, which was not normal for an immigrants kid in Germany. I went to a Gymnasium, although I was an immigrant. I dropped out of school, got pregnant with 18 and managed to get a PhD, finance my child a normal life with music lessons and even private schools. I married young and we are still a family now with 3 kids. In Germany this wasn't suppose to happen to me. Statistics would tell you that as an immigrant you most likely won't get a high school degree that allows you to get into college. A young mother wouldn't finish college or get a job in science, because we are not flexible enough. So how did I get here and why am I anxious?? Probably because I became afraid of the improbable that has both sides: it can bring great things and it sure can be devastating. What if I'm prone to the improbable in general, so many bad things can happen every day. Very small mistakes could lead to catastrophes. How do you keep your cool and think positively? I try it constantly, but then a doubt sneaks in and at first it's a tiny crack in my mind, but it makes its way to break me down.

Mind trap

If you are an addict the solution is to avoid drugs and situations that trigger your cravings. If you have diabetes you avoid sugar and unhealthy food. It is very hard to do so, but for many disorders the solution that makes you healthier is taking control and avoid things that make you sick. ANGST uses this logic or common sense to take control. The more I avoid what makes me anxious the sicker and fear fuller I get. This leads me into its trap and it paralyses me being totally awake. If I don't try to avoid my fear I get panic attacks, too. I'm trapped, there is no way out.

Angst Fear is a basic emotion that protects us from the bad. In my case it is like a claw that strangles me every day. It wasn't always like that. I was once free. I could go through life without ANGST. I long for this freedom, but I'm a prisoner. I'm infested with this feelings and thoughts that make me want to throw up. When I look around at other people I see them as innocent. They haven't experienced it, they are living without realizing that everything could end at any moment. They live as if nothing could ever happen to them. They can enjoy their moments immaculately. They haven't opened the door to ANGST. I did. It wasn't on purpose or something I decided consciously. I let it in when I was weak. Over time I let it take control of my thoughts and after a while of my actions. It is taking over and I'm just its puppet. I think about dying and death every day. Does anyone but me realize how many times in our lives we could have dyed? Our life is so improbable, it is far more likely that we, that I would not exist. My conclusion should be that I should enjoy every moment and experience everything I can as long as it lasts. But this is not how my brain works. I'm afraid of traveling, being alone, being in crowds, of my work in the lab as a scientist, from the toxins I work with, dying from my heart condition, dying from allergies, choking on something, speaking in public, riding a train etc. I wash my hands all the time, but I still don't touch anything that I eat or cook. Everywhere I travel I will look up if there is a hospital near by. But my dream was and still is to travel and see the world, experience new things, taste different food, help people in need around the world, being an explorer. I can't because of my fear and it makes me sick. I hate myself for it. This is not who I am! This is a nightmare that doesn't end when I wake up. I don't want to infect my kids with my fear. I want to be a brave woman, mother and wife. Will there ever be a way out? Drugs are not an option for me. I want and need a clear and conscious mind. I want to be innocent again.