How Childhood Caused My Anxiety

  
When I think back to when I was younger and how I was brought up I think I could have only went two ways. One being who I am today and doing everything in spite of how I was treated and two hating the world and doing bad things because of the way I was treated. 

I don’t have very nice memories of my mam or dad which maybe I could share a little later but right now I’m focusing on the present and why I am who I am. I have a good head on my shoulders which I think could be down to my older brother and sister to be honest. They have thought me to never give up even when it gets hard like life usually does. I can’t help but think of it wasn’t for them “what if I went down the other path in life?”

Many people who are children of neglect tend to use that as an excuse to be a bad person. Basically, I could of done bad in school and people would have automatically blamed my parents, as people do but I knew right from wrong like everyone else. I also could be rude, selfish and greedy but instead I’m not. I choose to be loving, caring and helpful because it was all I ever wanted to be shown as a child. 

My anxiety is all part of the way I was brought up and for once I’m okay with that. Loud noises, dark nights and being alone all bring me back to when I was young and that is when I feel it right in the pit of my stomach, that feeling of expecting something bad to happen because when I was young it usually would. Screaming, banging and loud music is what I would hear whilst I hid under the covers with my hands over my ears. A child of alcoholic parents is what gives me that anxiety that I don’t think will ever leave me.

So, even though I have anxiety and sometimes it can be quite overwhelming just doing an everyday task I often think what I could have been? I could have followed in my parents footsteps like many children unfortunately do. I could get myself into toxic relationships with men exactly like my father but I don’t. If anything I am the way I am in spite of my parents. 

I’m sometimes afraid to think because I don’t know where my thoughts might bring me. On a good day, I will think about my childhood and smile and say to myself “I am a good person now and always will be. My parents don’t define me” But when it’s a bad day and my anxiety is high il think back and hate everything about my life. Il think about one time 5 or 6 years ago when I was drunk and hate myself so much for it because I remind myself of them. Even now I have made the decision to not drink as often as I’d like to in fear of that dreaded feeling of being anything like them. Even though I am NOTHING like them.