Crippling Anxiety pt2 in Therapy

I wrote my last entry pretty late last night. If you want, I would read that first to get a better understanding. Be this part will stand on its own as well.
I think this is what it’s like with most people experiencing some sort of mental health issue. First off, it tells you that you’re all alone, that no one else could ever understand. After wallowing in loneliness, to tells you that it makes you special, that it miles you you. It comes to a point where you can’t live with it but you can’t live without it.
At least that’s what if was like for me. Is like. As I said last time, I’ve dealt with my anxieties for a long time, really since I can remember. The depression started when I was about 12 or 13 and I thought that that was my main issue. I thought it had just come out of nowhere and that’s why things were so bad for a couple of years. But it wasn’t until after that I realized the depression wasn’t random. It was the product of built-up anxiety from my whole life. It was the result of being socially and emotionally exhausted. The constant shakiness, sweaty palms, and cold numb feeling in my bones all waiting for me to have the time to break down.
It was during all this that I started using tumblr. Of course, kids over there were boasting about their mental illness. I wasn’t so much one of those, instead I just passively followed other blogs, but I felt a sense of belonging. No one in my life could ever understand me but these strangers on the internet could. It made me feel special.
It was so odd that the very thing that made me feel miserable and worthless made me feel special. I don’t think I was ever really suicidal and I didn’t ever self-harm, at least in a way that was destructive, but I thought about things being better without me. But at the same time, I was special and I has to keep on just being depressed.
Like I said, after that first depression my anxiety finally owned up to it’s meddling in my life. But at that point, it was just a huge part of who I was. Who I am. Sometimes, I do things that I couldn’t have done two years ago or five years ago and before I can feel proud I get scared. I get scared of the anxiety losing its grip on me. I worry that I won’t recognize the person underneath it all. I’m not sure if I’d like her.