I know what you’re thinking, mainly because I am Obiwan and I know the exact droids you’re looking for. And no not the old Obiwan, the younger one with the nice beard and timeless visage. Right now you’re thinking, “What in the world could my anxiety disorder and Darth Vader have in common?”
Well, my young apprentice, you shall see.
Side note: I still haven’t seen Episode VIII yet and I am excited to watch Rey and Finn be all kinds of perfect…especially Finn.
Anakin (The mere visage of how an anxiety disorder can change you)
“Cue the music”
(Dun, Dun, Dunnnn-Dunnnn-Dun-Dun-DUNNN)
A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away was you, a person without a care in the world, merely learning the force as an apprentice to the great Obiwan Kenobi and Qui-gon Jinn. Then it happened….the dark times…the empire. But, amongst the unmitigated disaster that is your life, you managed to hold on to your identity. Through triumph and circumstance you willed your way into becoming a Jedi and you were happy for a time, but something happened – as it always does.
Your once clear mind grew turbid and cloudy as you began to question the actions of the council and those close to you, for the world and its many paradigms have shifted since you were young only to leave you here – lost.
This pit in your stomach, a pit that was born the very day your mother died, only grew with every kill and war torn encounter since then. You have fought this feeling. First, quietly in the dark then, loudly in the light, but it has only flourished and now this pit, has become a chasm and you don’t know how to get back to yourself.
You begin to spout maligned phrases like “This is my new empire,” “Don’t make me kill you,” and the best one of all, “You underestimate my power.” Either way, you say extremely mean things to your pregnant wife, and to make matters worse, you find yourself dueling with your very best friend and brother atop the lava infested dying planet known as Musafar.
That’s right, you are having the wickedest case of PMS known to man, as your eyes have cast themselves a fiery crimson. Now when you stare in the mirror, you barely recognize yourself, because, well, your suit makes you look bloated, a bit robotic and it’s far too heavy.
By now your voice is beginning to sound deep and throaty like James Earl Jones, and your affinity for wearing towering suits of armor that fully encumber your body have all but consumed you.
Indeed, this anxiety disorder thing has become you, but at least you wear it well, and thank god it comes in black. Gosh, you’re such a diva.
The upside is, cosplay is easier than ever.
Breathing problems (Anxiety disorders cause breathing problems)
You huff you puff, you blow that house down. These days you walk around force choking everyone and anyone unfortunate enough to be in your path, because your anxiety disorder has crippled you and your suit is really tight.
Your pain is constant and sharp and you would be damned if you didn’t inflict some of that pain on others. Besides, force choking is fun as hell. But, this isn’t you, it’s time for a snickers bar.