Everything Happens For A Reason

Anybody who knows me knows that I’m a firm believer of everything happens for a reason. To be honest, I think I use it as a coping mechanism. I believe that, I am exactly where I am supposed to be right now in life even if I’m not happy right now at the moment, I know this is the way it’s supposed to be. I think if my parents didn’t treat me the way they did I wouldn’t be such a strong headed person. There are so many small decisions we make in life that can turn our whole world around and it’s all about taking risks and sometimes, making mistakes. 

As you all know, I suffer with anxiety and I genuinely think it’s to make me better as a person. If I didn’t suffer with this, I wouldn’t have such a passion for psychology, I wouldn’t be so curious as to why my mind is the way it is. I want to help other people overcome this as I battle it myself. If I had kind, loving and supportive parents, I think I wouldn’t suffer with anxiety and I would be completely opposite to the way I am now. I have been let down so many times in life by people and it has only made me stronger. Yes, I have put up a wall that people would rather avoid than break down and see what is behind that wall which is me. I’m behind that wall, the real me who has nothing but love to give but in saying that, the wall has stopped the wrong people from entering my life and tearing me down even more than my parents already have.

If you ever question why you are going through a situation in life, why that person won’t text you back or why you feel let down all the time just remember it’s for a reason. The reason will be clear to you eventually but don’t ever feel like these things just happen because your a bad person, because your not! They are life lessons that will only teach us in the end. Everybody is on their own journey in life and horrible things are happening to all of us but in the end you will see the reason because there always is one. 


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.