If you are strong enough, and if you are brave enough, you will not see this illness as a flaw, or something to try to erase. You will see it as another reason to love and to adore her. You will see it as something she has, but not something that she is.
You are loud, and you are persistent. You know how to get under my skin, and you know how to give me goosebumps on every inch of my body. But, I will never let you take full control. I will never let you gain my whole heart.
When anxiety takes over, you may not know it. You may not know the seriousness of it. You may not know it has taken ahold of you. You may think it’s silly. You might even listen to those people, when they tell you it’s not a big deal. You might even listen to them, when they tell you it will go away on it’s own.
It comes out from hiding when you least expect it. It’s a ghost that you never invited inside your brain. It’s a skeleton in your closet, that won’t go away no matter how many times you smash it to pieces. It’s a monster under your bed, who comes out to play at the worst possible moments.
It’s telling yourself to breathe. Just breathe. But you don’t know how.
I’m going to therapy to love myself harder. To treat myself better. To care for myself in ways that no one else can. I’m going to therapy to love parts of myself that I haven’t found compassion for yet. I’m going to come to terms with my mistakes, and to accept me for me. The good and the bad parts.
If anxiety were a person, this is what I would say to him. I would beg him to get out of my head, to let me go. I would shout at him like he was an ex boyfriend saying, ‘leave me the fuck alone, just go’. But anxiety didn’t care what I thought. Anxiety didn’t care what I wanted at all.
Anxiety doesn’t care about how happy we are or what is going on in our lives. It is always there. No matter what we do, no matter where we are, and no matter who we are with, it can happen at any moment. The fear. The shaking. The images that cross our mind at lightning speed. The panic. The twirling of our hair. The need for more oxygen. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
YES, anxiety is an actual illness. You can Google it if you don’t believe us.
You have thoughts about your future at least once a day, and can’t seem to calm down about what’s next for you. You feel like your life is this one giant race where you have to finish everything in time, and you put so much pressure on yourself to hit all the right marks.