You know those days where everything just seems to flow? When you’re running on time, you hit every green light, your JAM just came on the radio, and you’re just really feelin’ yourself. Today was NOT one of those days. It was the type of day that makes you question everything. Like what am I doing? Where am I going? And what the hell is going on here? I’m hoping there’s a chance that mercury is in Retrograde. That would make me feel much more at ease about this wave of anxious energy.
Now depression has been a part of my life since my early teens, but anxiety and I didn’t meet until closer to twenty. My depression is definitely being managed, but every once in while anxiety shows up and unloads the contents of its suitcase on my chest. Heavy, like it has plans to stay. This extra weight slows me down and makes me feel like a different person. Someone I don’t recognize or care to know. The toughest part for me is opening up and talking while I’m struggling. I can’t seem to find the words, nor do I want to.
Anxiety can be different for everyone, and it may rear its ugly head in many different ways. Sometimes I become so disoriented and frazzled that I end up running around like a hamster on its wheel. Out of breath, and going nowhere fast. But for most of today, I walked around feeling zombie-like and disconnected from everyone and everything. I’ll be honest, it took me a lot of belting out Céline Dion and snuggling with my dog to get myself out of that funk. That combined with lots of full belly laughs in good company.
Some days it’s easy to snap myself out of a funk, and some days I just don’t. Today was a success, and the shedding of that extra weight felt like coming home. Back to me. Once I started feeling lighter, like I was actually able to breathe again, I thought about how alone I had felt. I started to wonder how many other people out there feel like that. In a world of 7.7 billion people, I can’t be the only one.
So I wrote this for anyone in a funk today. This is me sitting here on my laptop, putting my heart on my sleeve, to let you know you’re not alone. I hope that you’re able to sing/dance/laugh/cry/read/hike/run/puppy snuggle your way out of it, and ask for help when you need it. It’s no secret that the world is big and scary, but it is also beautiful and healing if you look in the right places. Always remember that even the darkest night will have its dawn.