A minha ansiedade convence-me de que toda a gente me odeia

A minha ansiedade torna-me muito insegura. Levo as coisas demasiado a peito.

When I call my friends and they don’t answer right away, it automatically gets me thinking that they don’t want to talk to me, that they are angry with me.

Penso sempre no pior cenário possível, em que sou o protagonista.

Tenho pavor dessas situações em que pode haver a mais pequena hipótese de alguém me rejeitar. Detesto estar nesse tipo de situações.

Isso torna-me ainda mais insegura do que já sou.

When I think someone has rejected me, I feel like I’m totally invisible and unimportant. I feel like no one cares about me.

Mesmo quando recebo o texto de volta, analiso-o demasiado profundamente. Analiso o possível tom do texto. Pergunto-me o que é que eles queriam realmente dizer.

Milhões de perguntas surgem-me na cabeça: Am I boring? They don’t want to talk to me, why did I even send the text in the first place?

It doesn’t matter with whom or in which situation, but I just have to be sure that the person I find important in my life loves me.

Tenho de me sentir seguro e amado porque isso faz-me sentir aliviado. Faz-me sentir que nada de mau vai acontecer.

Pelo contrário, vou pensar no pior resultado possível. Na verdade, a minha cabeça vai dirigir uma história de terror em vez de uma história de amor, e vou afastar essas pessoas da minha vida só por causa da minha ansiedade.

My anxiety forces me to overthink everything. If my friends tell me they can’t make it to our date tonight because they are tired or have to work late, I won’t believe them.

I won’t even consider the possibility they are telling me the truth. I’ll overthink what they’ve said and come up with an answer like: “They don’t want to be friends with me anymore.”

My anxiety makes me pessimistic—like if anything has the option of going wrong, it will. I always have the feeling that the whole world is against me, that everyone is out to get me.

I have the feeling that I’m so vulnerable, and I can’t do anything about it.

It’s almost impossible to think positively when nothing goes your way.

I’m so clumsy in social situations. I never fit in anywhere I go.

I’m just not cut out to be like everyone else, like the ‘normal’ people.

It’s so hard for me to talk to people. I barely talk to the ones I’ve known for years—let alone a stranger in the supermarket.

Parto sempre do princípio que ninguém gosta de mim e que querem afastar-se de mim o mais possível.

I don’t like dating because of all this. I never get if the person talking to me is really interessado em mim, ou está apenas a ser simpático?

Even if they tell me they like me, I won’t believe them. I know it’s just a matter of time until they leave me because they’ve seen the real me, and they don’t like it.

O meu ansiedade faz-me desrespeitar a mim próprio. Faz-me pensar que não sou nem nunca serei suficientemente bom.

So when people around me say they love me or say that I’m beautiful, I don’t believe them. Why would anyone think anything nice of me? It’s just impossible because I’m none of those things.

Because of my anxiety, I can’t see how much I’m worth. I see only flaws.