Just because my illness is mental, doesn’t make it any less valid or real.
I’m not going to tell you how to beat your anxiety. But I can tell you how to curve it.
Hallmark doesn’t make “I’m Sorry You Have Seasonal Affective Disorder Cards” — they just create blank cards with puppies building snowmen on the front so that you can write in that sentiment on your own.
There is no end until you are completely exhausted — mentally and physically — drenched in sweat, in tears and throwing up in the bathroom.
If you ask me now, I can’t even remember why I felt so desperate and tormented.
Do you know what that’s like? To regularly experience the sentiment of what if this is the moment I legitimately die?
You’ve just got to go with it. It’s a bizarre thing to be shaking one minute and walking into work the next. Making pleasantries about cereal choices and bad coffee feels different when you’re still trying to steady your heart rate.
Anxiety is figuring out how to deal with it.
I feel rushed by the sun and relieved on cloudy days when I can stay inside and study without feeling anxious.