I wasn’t able to confront my pain until I admitted there was nothing wrong with me.
I’ve lived with anxiety for as long as I can remember. And most of it has been a raging tide against Life being unfair. The world doesn’t get me. Soandso doesn’t like me. I’m misunderstood. I’m unappreciated. And so on. But these thoughts are a cover-up for the feeling that something was wrong with me in my core. I have this image in mind of bent steel — strong but damaged from some inner failing that has handicapped me getting what I wanted out of life.