a fearful warrior

I’ve met this boy who asked me, if i want to go on a date with him and i said no. 

He asked me why and I lied. 

I couldn’t tell him that I’m suffering with panic attacks and that I’ve reached such a low point,that I just can’t meet almost strangers in a cinema or restaurant, because i would lose my shit and make a scene and I would scare him of.

I could see it in his face, that he tried not to look hurt or angry, because I just said no without any good explanaition. 

I know, I don’t owe him anything,but I liked him aswell and I really wanted to go out with him... 

just without the going out part. 

At the same time I didn’t want to invite him to my house, we just met and no, I’m not scared, but yes, I feel like it’s common sense not to invite strangers to your bedroom, when you're not into that kinda thing.

Long story short, we exchanged numbers and I searched for a believable excuse, something like that I 'm afraid of meeting a stranger and that I wanted to first get to know him a bit more, just to get some time and he replied, that he wasn’t such a fan of this idea, because he would rather get to know me face to face and see if the chemistry works, than via text. 

I get that, I totally understand that. 

But I was too scared to tell him the truth, that I wanted this, too, but that I just couldn’t do it right now or any time soon. 

I didn’t want him to judge me based on my mental illness, I didn’t want to be that crazy girl, I just wanted to meet someone without the panic disorder between us.
Depression is so much easier to hide, it's not less scary or exhausting to live with, but it is a quiet agony. It numbs and makes me stop caring. Panic makes me care way too much and makes everything louder.

He wasn’t angry and he didn’t just left, he was kind and nodded and asked me if I was also scared of other things and in general an anxious person.

And this hit home.  

I wanted to answer with "no", with a very clear, loud "no", because I wasn’t - 
I have never been a fearful person, I would have always describes myself as brave and adventurous.

But then I looked at myself and the last 4 years from a different perspective: barely making it to school, all the therapies and meds, leaving uni, coming back home, missing appointments and cancelling dates with friends - because I was so scared...or better said: ill.

Maybe I am wrong. 

Maybe I’m a coward, maybe I’m the biggest coward that there is.

But does it count, that I’m just afraid of things, because I have an anxiety disorder?

How do I know what’s me and what’s the illness?

Or is the illness,  after all this years, finally such a big part of me, that it doesn't even matter, if Lilian is calm and lion-hearted, when Panic!Lilian – who is out 23 hours a day  - isn’t?

How do you even messure braveness or fear?

Is it braver to stand up for yourself, to admit defeat, to know your limits, to push yourself to go to the supermarket or is it brave to climb a mountain and to travel the world even if you're not scared of heights or the unknown?

Am I even braver, because I deal with my fear every waking hour and don’t let it kill me?

Or am I a bigger coward, because I’m not scared of anything in particular, but of fear itself?

Is panic all that I’m made of? 

Is there nothing left of ‘me’ anymore? 

Or is this me and everything I pictured in my mind was just wishful thinking?

Which part of my is who i really am,which is the diseased part that i need to cut off, which part is who i aspire to be, will i ever be 'okay', and is there any part of me, that isn't sick yet?

Am i more than an illness?

Could i be someone without it?

Will i ever be more than that?