As a young millennial who’s tried several different ways to find help for their anxiety/depression/suicidal tendencies, and has yet to find an effective and affordable solution, finding a support group has both induced relief and anxiety, because there’s not much else beyond this. This has to be it.
But what’s the worst that could happen? Instead of thinking of ways I could get in my own way in this respect, I’m mostly just worried about making a fool of myself.
I’m going to smile uncomfortably while speaking.
I’m going to cry during someone else’s share and try to hide it.
I’m going to want to hug a stranger, but will ask first.
Can I bring doughnuts? Not just for myself, but for everyone.
I’m going to fight feeling terrible about my pathetic story after hearing someone’s really powerful one.
I’m going to be self-conscious talking about suicide with my husband in the room.
I’m going to want to flake out and not attend one, or multiple nights, but I’ll go anyway.
It’s going to be aggravating, embarrassing and painful, but no matter how much awkward or how much derp I am, it has to work.