Alrighty, Anxiety

Anxiety is a debilitating illness. It can take you from hero to zero in an instant.

Unpacking its root causes has always been a challenge. A negative thought, a bizarre expression, or even a small comment can shift my mood. And when it does, sleep becomes elusive.

I remind myself not to believe every thought I have. For example, when someone seems to be lying through their teeth, my mind spirals into the situation. I jump to conclusions and let my emotions steer my decisions.

Understanding why I feel anxious has been difficult. Sometimes, the steps I take are drastic - like shutting people out.

I’ve talked to friends about it. But when I do, I always downplay what I’m truly feeling. What sounds like a firm “I’m okay” often masks a long night spent battling my thoughts. How do you articulate what you’re really feeling when your mind is flooded with horrible possibilities?

What calms me most is writing. Writing about why I feel what I feel. Writing even the deepest and most complicated parts of my tangled thoughts. I’ve tried to identify my triggers - and it always comes back to the future. There’s one specific topic that intensifies the anxiety. Waiting is slowly killing me.

Yet part of me resists the idea. Am I placing my sense of satisfaction in someone else’s hands? Why wait to feel fulfilled? Isn’t living on my own terms the real goal? Why seek something else when I already have so much?

I feel like for someone who seems to have it all, I keep focusing on what is missing.

I don’t know. Maybe I need to broaden my perspective. Sometimes, the problems I’m facing are just products of an idle mind.

Maybe writing alone isn’t enough. Maybe leaning on just a few people isn’t the answer - it builds walls. Maybe venturing out into the world, meeting more people, and observing how they live could give me a more holistic view of the life I’m shaping. Maybe learning to be curious - to listen, to care, to be present - could ease the anxiety, not by erasing it, but by giving it context. 

Maybe anxiety isn’t the true enemy, since it’s always been part of me. Maybe it’s teaching me something greater - not just how to survive, but how to face the pitfalls and become the hero of my own story.