Touching me, touching you

Well, third time trying to put something down. Not being able to put fairly good sentences on the screen is usually not a good sign. It frustrates me, just how the battle of anxiety frustrates me. Whatever I try to write, it's not good enough. The devil sits on my shoulder, disencouraging me.

He's there. I can feel him. The anxiety that's supposed to make me prepared in an emergency is wired all wrong. I can't control when the alarm can go off. Having the ability to live a life not influenced by the devil we have on our shoulder is what we all strive for. Mine is anxiety among other things, where as somebody else might struggle with something completely different and at the same time just as important. Well, I can control it to some extent but it's still there. I feel, or fear, that having a mental diagnosis makes me looked upon as "not normal" despite how many who actually are having their own problems.

What is normal anyway, and who's to decide that? I'll probably never see myself as normal given what I've been through. I don't see why that shouldn't be OK? Being abnormal is not negative nor positive. I can still be abnormal and keep my dignity. This fight isn't a defeat as long as I keep functioning by living by myself, having a job etc. And I'll still have my dignity without them. Not quite sure where I am going with this, to be honest. Dragging myself down and not giving any credit make me question why my worth as a person is the same as anybody else, like it has to be earned. Things that have positive effect on my self esteem are to be expected, being appreciated, included, and cared about. The depressing is so self-contradictory when it is keeping me from the things that might help me.

I know the title has nothing to do with what I've written. What I was trying to write about was the effect and importance of human contact has on the mental shape. That was for some reason a bit too complex to make it understandable for the reader. Anxiety or depression don't really make much sense either. Why would our brains try to break us down and keep us from functioning, is beyond me. For example, feeling the anxiety now when writing this when what I want is people to read this, makes no sense. It might be compared to stage fright when you're on a stage, only that the crowd is missing.