Even now at twenty seven years old I deal with high anxiety to the point that I've been given medications to take when everything gets to be too much and I have the urge to freak the fuck out, putting it simply.
What really had me thinking about this was driving yesterday.
Driving is one of my anxiety triggers because within the first two months of owning my car I was in three accidents (rear ended) within three weeks of each other, all in the same spot. This has made driving a terrifying experience for me because I have fear of being hit again. I am perfectly fine in light traffic situations when there are other responsible drivers that know the meaning of a car length away. It is when traffic gets heavier, and people start to drive like it's Drive Like Ray Charles Day, that I get extremely nervous to the point that I will pull over if I get too anxious and wait for traffic to thin out before I go about my business.
The reason that I started to really think is because yesterday I was in one of those high traffic situations where I'd normally freak out. Instead of losing my gourd and parking until traffic thinned out enough to satisfy me, I trucked on to my destination as if there was no one on the road at all.
What does that have to do with anything?
I felt like a badass.
Wearing my aviators and blasting Aerosmith, I felt like a badass that could tackle anything that got in my way.
I didn't think about the idiot riding my ass like a hemorrhoid, or the little old lady in front of me that loved to ride her breaks.
Nothing mattered in that simple moment in time, I was in control behind the wheel and everyone else could go eat a peen.
It was a small triumph for me, really. As dumb as it sounds, it was a triumph.
In my mind, it truly validated the saying of "the clothes make the man". I was confident and worry free, all thanks to some kick ass rock music and a pair of $5 aviator sunglasses that I picked up at a Goodwill.
I already knew that clothes could bring confidence, as I have certain outfits for certain moods when I go to work. Some things make me feel like I'm the head bitch in charge, while some more dressed down pieces make me feel like a regular peon that just works there instead of running the place.
It really is amazing how something as simple could make me rethink my outlook entirely.