Thoughts from One Anxious Person to Another

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I will not pretend to know what your anxiety is like. I will not pretend to be some know-it-all on the subject of mental health. I will not pretend to tell you what you need to do to defeat anxiety. I can never tell you what to do.

        All I can do is understand.

        I can understand that all anxiety is different. Everyone worries about different things and their worry manifests in different ways. Some would call it a phase, some might call it an illness, and some even refer to it as a gift. But what would I call ‘anxiety?’

MY anxiety.

Me.

Someone who suffers from multiple anxiety disorders. Someone who has lived a privileged life; only to realize that past situations have altered my state of being. My past situations have given me the gift society calls ‘anxiety’.

I have been given the fear of being afraid.

        I would call it hard. I would call it challenging. Painful. Breathtaking... I would even call it ‘beautiful.’  Why you ask?

        Because I care. I care so much that my lungs need help working. I care so much that the buzzing in my chest makes my body feel light - like I am floating. I feel so much that my stomach forgets to remind me to eat.

Because I feel. I feel like screaming but my lungs can’t hold enough air. I feel like crying but my body can’t hold enough tears. I feel the things some people wish they could feel.

        I feel alive.

I feel like I’m dying.

        These feelings are different from anyone else’s. My feelings do not dictate the symptoms of someone else’s struggles. Whatever your struggles are, I can sympathize. I can understand. It’s not easy to feel so much. To think too much. It’s not easy just ‘to be.’

        One thing I can tell you is how proud you should be of yourself. You keep going. Through the pain; through the mess of thoughts; through this thing we call ‘life.’

        You are enough. And all you have to do is breathe.

Breathe.