I was asked to follow a writing prompt where you timed yourself and wrote about whatever came to mind for five minutes. But all I can think about is how my anxiety has become a dragon that no one but myself can control or understand. I can’t explain why I love doing nothing all day, then right before bed, want to cry over the same fact that I celebrated just hours before hand. Or why I become a girl with no opinions when asked to make a simple decision.
“Pizza or Thai”
“Chocolate or Sour Candy”
“Watching Netflix or Watching TED”
My anxiety has become a dragon that I rely on to carry me from one place of importance to the next. It’s become something the media has tried to explain but still, some people just can’t grasp the existence of. It’s not their fault, they just can’t believe in something they can’t feel or see unless it’s a religion that they grew up with.
My anxiety is exactly that, it’s a dragon which delivers sermons of uncertainty when I really need sermons of encouragement. It’s the man standing on the street corner holding a sign while the sky is falling saying “Everything you believe in is a lie, and nothing you know is for certain.”
My anxiety is your best friend who tells you that you are perfect and that no one deserves to have you, and that’s why you’re alone. Even though you know you’re alone because you push everything good away from you in fear that you’re the poison which is going to infect the planet and cause the glaciers to melt.
My anxiety is the safety net which allows me to create an online persona where I am happy and funny, and incredibly light on my feet. But when I’m at home it’s the concrete anchor which is pulling me down to the bottom of the sea.
But my anxiety is also the best thing that has ever happened to me, and the most consistent thing that has ever happened to me.
I can count on my anxiety being there for me whenever I feel like I am a blank page with nothing interesting to say. I can count on my anxiety telling me “Hey maybe you’re not ready to jump off the diving board just yet, are you sure you remember how to swim?”.
My anxiety is the kick off the to the start of something magical, that I am discovering in myself every single day that I get to wake up.
My anxiety is not a big scary dragon, but the kind of dragon that does his best to protect you but still breathes fire when he’s not paying close attention.
My anxiety is the dragon that burns my body from the inside out but his fire fuels me to do better, and be better, and become the bright light that he claims I’ve always been.