I'm afraid

I'm taking a writing class and my prompt is:
 I'm afraid.

10 mins of writing...starting

I am afraid of being afraid of so many things. I have anxiety every single day. It used to be chest crushing, but it eased with medication. I've been a victim of my emotions for a long time. I hate the word victim, but I strive not to be that in almost every way. In order to not fall victim to my anger and irritability that seems to have made a permanent home inside...I take meds. I've been on some type of meds for 20 years. Even that makes me sound a little nutty...or that I'm seeking happiness through pills instead of doing the work myself. I've been in therapy for longer. Therapy helps. But it seems I come by it naturally--the anxiety, depression and the adult ADHD. STIGMA word!!! Yep...that's the one I normally don't come out with. It sounds made up. It sounds like I have a doc that just wants to sell me something. After being off all medication for 4 years to have my children...I thought I'd beaten it. I thought I had somehow been tricked the entire time and that nothing was really wrong with me. But even in the first year of my oldest, I felt the darkness slip in. Anger came with it at times...well, more aggravation. I would be frustrated with her...a baby. I would take her and put her in her crib to be safe and then go take a bath and calm down. She was never in danger with me...but I was then questioning my skills...or whether I could do this. Some days were great. Other days, I was just overwhelmed...by everything. We head another baby. Thank goodness for her. Zoe needed a sister and she is the best older sister to her. When I yelled too loud at Z one day, I sought help the next. My doc met with me 3 separate times for an hour each time. She didn't want any background information on my medications or diagnosis. She told me she thought I had ADHD and that I'd probably had it my entire life. I'd been diagnosed with bipolar disorder and had been taking those meds--I lost my twenties pretty much. The coctail I took made me a zombie and I had no short term memory. This cost me a job and made me feel as if I was pretty useless. I thought about high school and then college...it all fit. I sat in her office and cried about the life I'd lost. I felt robbed. I could never understand why other people seemed to have their life together and I didn't. I knew I was bright enough to get it together...but I couldn't figure it out. I always had a job...I paid my bills...but my emotions were whacky and it made me an interesting friend at times.

But now, when I take my meds, the anxiety starts to taper. The overwhelming feeling goes away. Life looks completely doable and I am zen. I have patience with my girls. I'm not climbing the walls anymore. Now, I have my days. Like this one. I'm overwhelmed at all there is to do in this damn house. I'm doing a purge project in order to have less stuff and less stress. So far, so good--but there is much to do. And I wish I had someone who could sit across from me and hold my hands and tell me that it's all going to be okay. Everything will get done. They will help me and we will have fun doing it. It's not exactly my husband, but he'd do. It's more of a female feel...a nurturing soul...someone maternal...or just one of my dear friends. I chose to move away from all of them. I worry that I'll be sucked into their lives and won't have my own...I love feeling needed. I crave it. It makes me feel worthy. Wow...I have so many therapy sessions to go.