Anxiety. Being afraid of being afraid of something you know it does not make sense to be afraid of.
Anxiety. Replaying conversations over in your head for days after because you know you sounded like an idiot & the person you we’re talking to will probably never want to speak to you again.
Anxiety. Being afraid of any small thing, good & bad, your body feels because the bad feelings mean you are dying & the good feelings are your body readying you for your swift death.
Anxiety. Staying up sun rise to moon set because you had a dream that was definitely a premonition & something catastrophic is sure to happen if you close your eyes.
Anxiety. The destroyer of worlds.
Most everyone has suffered from anxiety at one point or another but it isn’t spoken of out if fear of sounding foolish or being brushed away.
Don’t let your anxiety over your anxiety keep you from reaching out. We’re here. to listen. We’re here to help. Breathe in. Breathe out.
You ask if I’m getting out if bed today, with attitude, as if I am the laziest person alive. Yes, I am getting out of bed today & I want a fucking parade because it will take every ounce of me to step out of that bed & to put my feet on the floor. It will take every ounce of me to fake my existence with perfectly timed smiles & pretending to sneeze when I feel water burning behind my eyeballs. It will take every ounce of me to keep up with conversations while working so hard to detangle the black thoughts that haunt my mind. I deserve a fucking parade.
Tell me, do the androids seriously dream of electrical sheep? If not, then why do I dream so? You do not hear me. Every part of me has conjured up everything that can to tell you I’m sorry. I’m not crafty enough? The exhaustion has made me question my life. So I go forth with the equipment I have. As do you. I am no shining armor. Who has time to clean? I just wished you fought the fire with me, douche bag.
Within the void.
Mark the page of the dictionary, darling, so that I’ll never forget the word to describe you
You will always be my definition of love
Whenever someone asks me
What love feels like,
I will smile.
It feels like you. Your hand,
Around my waist. Just above the
Curve of my hip.
Like you were putting the
Pieces of me
Together and turning every
Dream I’d ever had into
A vision of
A spectrum of light and you were
To see more from Amy, visit her blog The Girl and the Words or her Twitter page.
Anxiety has been a part of my life since before I had the language for it. Over the years it will wax & wane— sometimes for good reason but oftentimes (and more frustratingly) out of nowhere. In July I got really sick, or at least I felt really sick, but no trip to the ER or urgent care returned any results. In August, I had panic attacks more frequently than I’d had in years & I started to worry about the snow & how I would handle the winter blues if I couldn’t handle the summer. I got so frustrated with myself— “my life is better than ever, why can’t I just be a human?” & I forced myself to conquer fears (hi, I have stage fright but I’m gonna act in front of a bunch of strangers for the first time ever at 28) just to prove to myself that I could. The only thing that ever really helps my anxiety is yoga (mind) & eating clean (body) so I decided to commit myself to both for 30 days using the #whole30challenge (no sugar, carbs, booze, etc). To most people this was stupid (I get it) & I don’t know if these things really “cleanse” anything physical, but for me— it’s a mental reset, a challenge to conquer just so I know I can. I don’t believe any diet or lifestyle is right for every person, & I don’t believe in shoving your choices (even your good ones) down other people’s throats (sorry, crossfit friends) but I think if you can find something that fixes your shit you should make it a priority.
No you can’t hit snooze.
Grab your phone.
Facebook says everyone is fine. Get up.
Where are your slippers?
Where are your fucking slippers!?
More people shot today; more hate and fear on tv.
Choke ’em back, go get dressed.
Look at you. You haven’t looked yet.
You don’t wanna look.
The scale fucking LIES.
The news fucking LIES.
Fuck these damn pants!
You guess you like this skirt instead.
OH SHIT! You lost track of time.
Better hang your head and make the late call.
You’ve been fucking up a lot recently.
WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?
NOTHING. I am human. I am worthy. I am always learning. I am always enough.
You left me. You left my love because your parents told you they’d shun you from their love if you didn’t. As if being gay is still taboo.
I’m a parent’s dream for their kid: good job, good pay, paid off my car, I don’t do drugs, I’m living on my own, I cook, clean, and repair things, I’m 23 and paid my way through a foreign country, I speak multiple languages, have a degree, great with kids and all I want is their daughter to be happy and safe. That’s my priority. Why wouldn’t you want your kid with someone like that?
I remember when we met, it was like one of those movie scenes. Time stops with you, and it feels like we are the only two people in the world. I have never loved anyone more in my life. I know it hurts you as much as it hurts me to stop this. The world accepts us and sees our love is pure. Just not your world. I wish your parents loved you enough to love who you loved.
I’m not sure how to let you go. It feels like having to decide between losing my arm or my leg. I will always want you to be part of my life. You told me to find someone who is like you but willing to fight for me. My heart has never hurt more to hear that. I know i will be ok. I’m just not ready to let you go yet.