Growing up around chaos, I learned to feel comfortable amidst upheaval, uncertainty, and shifting expectations and demands. That was my norm. Stillness was distressing and silence was panic-inducing.
A few years ago, I realized that everything I knew about conventional beauty and personal hygiene products was wrong.
Take 5 minutes to play your favorite song at 10 (or whatever the max is on your speakers) and dance, baby, dance.
Tell them that anxiety is so complex, so powerful, so all-consuming, and so varied that it looks different and feels different in every single brain and body where it sets up camp.
If you don’t know, do nothing.
We are not defined by the fear. We are not merely a byproduct of our anxiety. This isn’t your claim to fame. It’s not your identity. It’s not the thing that sets you apart.
If I had the flu, I would rest, sleep, and take it easy until I was recovered. I would not call myself lazy, or sooky, and I would not feel guilty about cancelling plans because to rest would be an essential part of the healing process.
I crave your acceptance and support, your friendship.
I am already ashamed of my own feelings and the way I am acting because of them. If you are seeing me cry it is because my pain has reached the point where I can no longer hide it and I am incredibly vulnerable right now.
I sat in the waiting room, a nervous wreck. I had the cold sweats, my hands were shaking like a drug addict going through withdrawal, and I never felt more alone in my entire life.