Anxiety. It’s not a party..

Sometimes it’s the feeling that a vindictive elephant is on your chest and will not let you breath.
Sometimes your heart beats so fast you think it will break out of your very ribs.
Sometimes it’s your head spinning so fast with plans..exit plans, back ups of back ups, what if’s and the many, many resolutions.
Sometimes it’s the being drenched in sweat.
Sometimes it’s the being drenched in tears.
Sometimes it’s the not being able to get off the toilet. For hours.
Sometimes it’s the (perceived) anger of others at your complete inability to be adult or even get your shit slightly together.

Sometimes it’s all of it at once. Sometimes it’s even more things.

It’s controlling. Like the most poisonous friend. It’s close to you and knows all your secrets but will let them all out in a massive torrent to make you re live all those moments of panic and anguish. It’s not your friend. It’s an Arsehole. It makes living a prison. Trapped in your head…making plans and plans and plans. Just to get down to the shop.

Schedules. Timetables. Anything you think you can do to win, to trick it so that you can live ‘normally’.  These things, these things are still a prison.
How is this living?
Then you spiral downwards, it senses this and really comes out to party.

I have fought with it. I have bargained with it. I have tricked it, but not for long. I have meds which are becoming far less effective at keeping physical symptoms at bay.

I know I am not going to die. I know that, even when everything is all going all at once. Worst case scenario is I’ll hyperventilate, conk out unconscious, the brain will chill and I’ll breath again at the very worst. But that’s not a fucking great back up plan isn’t it!?

So now, as I face the morning battle.. I thought maybe writing it down will be a way of winning today?
I don’t want much really. Just to get to work and be normal for five hours, then come back home.

Will it give me that or do I fight for it?

*sigh*

That’s the thing. How strong am I to battle with myself constantly.

My strength is sapped by other illnesses. It’s is hard.

But I fight it. Every day. Sometimes I do win. So that’s good.

Today I will win in the end. It may not be the war, but this battle will be mine.
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2 thoughts on “Anxiety. It’s not a party..

  1. I wish I could offer a magic panacea, insert a slow release bag of anti-anxiety skittles into your psyche but, unfortunately, I can’t. But I have sent you a bag of pixie dust to snort. It works for me! Stay well. Be happy.

    Liked by 1 person

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