Experiences that other people would celebrate, such as graduations, weddings, and promotions, are dreaded milestones for me — not the ferociously sought-after goals that they are for many people.
Sometimes, I think back to try to identify the defining moment that turned me into the anxious, paranoid wreck that I became for so long. I search for clues regarding what led me there. Maybe my mother was withholding, or maybe my father was too strict.
Perhaps those things are true. But my anxiety was always there, slowly bubbling to the surface for a quarter of a century, until it would eventually erupt, pouring into every aspect of my adult life.