F*** you, anxiety

I think the worst part about my anxiety is when it becomes normal.

I can get anxiety about pretty much everything and anything if I’m not in the mood to fight. Sometimes the thought of basically any communication with another person is enough to make me sweaty and sick. I don’t really know what sets off a good day or a bad day, but it’s when I can’t tell the two apart that’s the worst.

Am I staying true to myself by spending time alone or am I letting the anxiety win by avoiding the world?

Pretty sure it’s the latter.

When I’m feeling up, I have all sorts of ideas with what to do with my time and how to battle through my anxiety and depression, but then the morning comes.

My alarm goes off. I glance over at the list of ideas (I always seem to think writing them down will make a difference). The worry settles in about all the interactions I might have to have, the potential for failure or rejection, and dealing with the real world. I roll over and start to calculate how long I can lay there until I have to get up.

Days become shorter when there’s 90 minutes of pacing involved every time you have to walk out the door.

The worry and anxiety have poisoned my tired mind.

The truth is that I’m much happier when I’m being social, interacting and communicating with others. It makes me feel alive.

The happiest, most productive years of my life have been when I’m “forced” to work and play with other people. But when that external force isn’t there to bring us together, I slide back into the dark realm of loneliness and self-doubt.

The worry and anxiety have poisoned my tired mind.

Seeing people casually converse, spontaneously strike up friendships, fall in love, or embark on everyday adventures together is so frustrating.

How did they do that? Why is that so hard for me? What’s wrong with me?

When questions like those pop into your head on a regular basis, it becomes easier to let the anxiety win, ignore the alarm and roll back over.

It’s like: “I’m already so far behind everyone else, why should I bust my ass trying to catch up? My life’s not that bad. I may not be as happy as I could be, but … whatever. Anxiety is too high of a mountain to climb.”

That sounds so silly when I read it out loud.

Fuck you, anxiety. Why should I just give up on my own life?

You may have infiltrated my mind and my heart at times, but I’m bigger and stronger and smarter than you and I’m not going to let you win.

It sucks that I have to go through this whole introspective battle on a daily basis just to get out the door. It’s battle I fight everyday and to those who fight it as well, say “fuck you” to your anxiety for me. You are not alone.