Generalized Anxiety Disorder

     Welp, it may have actually finally happened. There may be an explanation to whatever the hell is wrong with me. As was suggested to me earlier today...yesterday, it could be very possible that I am afflicted with Generalized Anxiety Disorder, or GAD. And after reading a little bit on it, and by a little I mean the WebMD and Wikipedia articles on the disorder, I have this to say: it would explain a whole fucking lot about a fucking ton of shit!
     Let me give you a quick rundown of some of the symptoms according to Wikipedia: fatigue, not every single day, but a whole hell of a lot of the time; fidgeting, look at me closely next time, I'm mostly likely doing something with my hands or feet; headaches, got em; nausea, got it, a lot more than I would like; sweating, you don't even wanna know; and then there are some others that apply to me and a couple that don't. 
     It makes a pretty strong case. I mean, the more I read about it, the more I can say 'holy shit, that is so me!' But, of course, because it can't let even one thing rest as it is, there is always that STUPID little voice that's telling me that, because I'm recognizing the possibility that I have this disorder, then I don't have it. Isn't that true? If an 'insane' person admits that they are insane then they aren't really insane? Although, now that I think about it, there has to have been a serial killer somewhere along the way that has gone 'now wait a minute, what I'm doing just isn't what normal people do. now why could that be?' 
     But even if it isn't GAD, there simply has to be something wrong with me. If what I go through on a daily basis is what the rest of humanity goes through on a daily basis as well, then I just may begin to preach  the whole 'earth is the only hell' thing, because...I mean, there's just no way. I'm not trying to belittle anyone else's problems in any way or anything like that, I'm just saying, being me isn't fun. At all. Friends tell me that everyone has the irrational belief that people hate them from time to time. Alright, I can buy that, but does everyone have the irrational paranoia that everyone, your closest friends, your family, even people that you do not even know, hate you, cannot stand you, but out of pity's sake, they are nice to you? Do they devote hours before going to bed going through conversations they've had during the day  to make sure that they didn't say anything that could possibly have made the other person upset with them? Do they do it while the conversation is going on? Because I do. Every day.
     Does everyone do things to please people, in any way possible, even if people don't tell them to do it? Well, I can't honestly answer that, because I don't know what people do, but I can tell you what I do, and then maybe you can deny me my disease. If I want to please a person, which is usually anyone, anytime, I will go to extreme lengths to do so, even stepping out of my comfort zone and doing things that are completely out of character for me to do. Normally, this does not constitute anything that is physical pain or stuff like that, but it can be extremely emotionally wracking, especially when trying to live up to family expectations. I hear people say that them and their parents are like best friends, and I can't help but envy them. If you were to put mine and my parents' relationship into a quantifiable situation, it would be something like the people who are in each others' life because they have to be. Or, at least it was for me. I don't tell my parents anything about myself. Nothing. Nada. Grades, nope, they could figure them out for themselves. Social life, my mom would just wreck it. Personal life, well, there's really no other excuse other than I'm afraid they would completely reject me because, as hard as it is to believe, as much as I may say I dislike them, they are my parents, and if they don't love me, what hope do I have with anyone else? 
     I'm sure by now, you're thinking 'wow, this jackass is in some serious need of therapy,' and you know what? I'm almost 100% positive that you are correct. But you know what else, unless you wanna be the one to sedate me and then drag me into a therapists office, then you can go shove it in your ear. Because I'm also almost 100% sure that I'm not going to a therapist out of my own free will, I get my pride from my good old dad. So, like I said, I will have to either be sedated or dragged there, kicking and screaming. And when I got there, I would probably play master of the mask, as I have become so accustomed to doing over the years, and just nod my head and say yea, ok, nothing's wrong with me, so shut up. Healthy? Hell no. Realistic? Most certainly. 
     If you can't tell from my diction and tone, I am just a little bit pissed off at the world right now. Everyone is under fire right now, innocent and guilty, god-fearing and atheist, black and white, young and old, rich and poor, dead and alive. But I really can't help it. You see, I have this thing I like to call my 'man period'. Ladies, you know kind of what I'm talking about, and guys, I'm sure you get it too, you just don't admit it or you don't know it yet. Basically what happens is my emotional tolerance for things goes just plain out the window, caused, most likely, by a hormonal imbalance that I don't really care to think about, i simply accept that it's there. But anyways, it's not a regular thing, but definitely a reoccurring thing, and I'm on it now, so put up your forcefields. I'm rapin erybody up in here. 
     My man period matters in this situation because I would most certainly not be posting this kind of thing in a blog post. Usually, this kind of thing would go straight into my journal rather than risk being exposed to the public. However, I'm sitting here at 3:45 in the morning, in the dark, waiting for fucking registration to start, and I really didn't feel like getting my journal and making the effort to write all this shit down. So there you go. Enjoy. Or don't, I really don't give a flying fuck.