I feel like a bit of a fraud. There are people around me with real problems making a better fist of this life than me. Yes, ok so I got dealt a bad hand, but life could be a helluva lot worse and I feel like I’m full of first world problems and petty rubbish.
Right now I’m feeling overwhelmed by life. Struggling to cling onto the safety raft, my fingers keep slipping and I keep floating away before someone grabs me and pulls me back. Drowning, I feel like I’m drowning. I’ve felt like this for a couple of weeks, I did think that it was hormonal, but I don’t think it is, not entirely. I did think it was because I’d had a big drink one night, and maybe that didn’t help, because it does negatively affect my mood. I just think I’m overwhelmed and instead of methodically working my way through everything, my brain has just thrown me into the anxiety deep end with a dodgy floatation device.
Here I am, struggling to focus, struggling to breathe, my mind racing and racing and racing. There are real people with real problems and I can’t breathe and I feel so selfish. Anxiety makes you selfish though. It makes you want to scream out and stamp your feet, it overwhelms you and takes over everything you think and do. I’m in another anxiety spiral and I’m tumbling and tumbling through it all. Trapped in the rip tide and I can’t escape it.
The self care kicks in. Pills for sleep. Pills for pain. Caffeine to wake me up. Go for a walk. Walk, keep walking, breathe the fresh air, walk, breathe, walk, repeat until calmer. Do something nice, hug the small boy, laugh together, watch the stars in the sky. Remember how small you are in the universe and how big and important you are to some people. Walk, breathe, walk, love. Be loved. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat until calm.
Ah anxiety my old friend. You come, you go, I might not see you for a week or two, then suddenly you’re back, waving at me from afar, moving closer, your shadow looming over me and across my life. But why? Why won’t you leave me alone?
Tonight anxiety is casting her ugly shadow again and I don’t know why. I always figured if I knew why then I could make it stop, at least for now. So my brain runs through all the likely and unlikely reasons for my anxiety, so here goes. I might not get anywhere near 101 reasons why I’m anxious, but we’ll see…
Is my son ok?
Is he developing properly?
Has he settled into school ok?
Am I a good enough mum?
I work too hard
I don’t work hard enough
I can’t pay a bill
Are things ok with my husband?
Is my house about to fall down?
Worry about friends
Worry about my health
Worry about my pain levels
Worry about dying and leaving my son alone
Worry about my family
Is my Dad ok?
Am I working hard enough?
I can’t afford my prescriptions
I miss my friends
I want to go out for a drink
If I go out for a drink am I an alcoholic?
Is my work good enough?
Why am I stupid? I used to be so sharp
Dying children and heartbroken parents
Do I live in a bubble?
Do I care that I live in a bubble?
Do I think too much?
Do I think enough?
What can I do?
What can anyone do?
Are we all going to die?
Are we all going to die alone?
Am I going to die alone?
I’m going to die
Will it hurt?
Everything hurts anyway
I’m hungry and there’s nothing to eat in the house
What can my son have for breakfast?
My son will hate me
He hates me anyway
He’s not the only one, lots of people hate me
I am worthless
I am ugly
I am useless
I have let my son down
I’m stuck here
I’ve got no one to talk to
Why do I feel empty?
Am I dead inside?
How would I know if I were dead inside?
Why do I care about people who don’t care about me?
Will I always be anxious?
I’m feeling anxious because I don’t know why I’m anxious
Why am I anxious?
Remember that dark place? Lets not go back there
Please don’t get like that again
Oh god, the thought of it is terrifying
Why can’t I breathe?
Gah. I wish I had someone to talk to about all this.
Hey did you know I have an anxiety disorder?
You want me to stop banging on about it?
Me too. Stuck record and all that
*texts friend* why won’t they reply?
*sends another text* WHY WON’T THEY REPLY?
They hate me. I don’t blame them
I’m always asking for help
They’re bored of me
I hate myself
Sorry I’m boring
*texts friend* sorry for pestering
Hates self for texting about pestering because it is actually pestering