Aha, me and you are two different breeds of one of those things on the discovery channel. And I'm an open book, if I don't want to tell you something, I'll let you know...but above all, I won't take it personally if someone asks a question.
I've also always been anxious to a very small degree, but was always forced into facing it and always came out on top (Japanese dad forced me to do it, Irish mother always made me feel great about it). Youngest child, not an over-achiever but when I found something I loved I could be mistaken for one, etc. etc...have slight OCD, but my anxiety seems to have overridden this...basically I kept my stuff real clean.
Did the whole drug thing around 19-20, hung out with several asian mafia's because they were so frikken cool. Never had a problem getting along with anyone. Actually I prided myself on being able to understand and get along with any and everyone, and always have a way to calm them and make them all smile. (Smiles have always been the food for my soul - Irish thing me likes to think). Everything kinda broke down at the end of college. Pinnacle of the successful side of my life, passing with high honors, the head of the school took a personal interest in me because of my final presentation performance, and gave me a personal introduction with a leader in computer security...blah-ditty-blah.
Anyways, the anxiety was brought full force around this time because of a regret. A girl I liked, who I thought was into me (she gave the "looks", gave me the right vibe), but I never took that chance to find out. Thus, I closed down, and started thinking about it too much, which lead to my current thought pattern. From this, I became the anti-thesis of what I was. Couldn't talk to
anyone, couldn't help anyone, hell...I couldn't help mySELF! Funny thing is, everything started changing with a girl I met this year. We aren't going out, I screwed my chances with her, but we still talk. The main thing is she got me out doing something I enjoyed waaaay to much. Snowboarding. I was like a little kid on Christmas morning, who knew getting beat up by iced snow could be so much fun? I couldn't be more terrible at something, but it didn't matter.
Ever since, I've found I'm happier and less anxious when I let go. When I do things I love from time to time. When I have my own opinion, even if it faces the challenge of everyone around me. I'm becoming me again, little by little, step by step, chance by chance. And I'm seeing a counselor, thus accepting I can't do it on my own anymore. Which isn't a bad thing, it means I'm opening up again.
Geez, you could call me Stephen King with how much I wrote, scary huh?
I guess right now, I'm coming to terms with what you summed up in your last paragraph: I'm accepting me for whatever that is. With one addition: dagnabit, next time I see a girl I feel that special something for, I'm going for it. Win or lose, sometimes competing alone is all one needs.
