Anxiety! Mixed feelings there. Do I hate it or secretly love it? Is it peri-menopause causing this delightful chaos, or do I just have a knack for attracting mental turmoil? Oh well, the jury's still out on that one. What I do know is that anxiety is exhausting. It crashes into your life uninvited, flips everything upside down—not in a fun way, mind you—leaves you paralyzed, and then overstays its welcome like the world's worst houseguest. Seriously, it lingers longer than that one relative who never knows when to leave the party.
Anxiety has this knack for arriving at the most inconvenient times, like when you're about to fall asleep or in the middle of a crucial work meeting. It doesn’t knock; it just barges in, throws your mind into chaos, and makes itself comfortable. And let’s not forget the physical symptoms—heart racing, palms sweating, and that lovely feeling of impending doom. It’s like a bad horror movie on repeat.
Lately, I've been dealing with it a lot. Anxiety has become a regular in my life. I could be watching TV, reading a book, or even at work, and it shows up all of a sudden, whipping me off my feet—not in a good way. It’s like a surprise party where the surprise is that you’re the piñata.
Sometimes, I wonder if anxiety is just my brain's way of keeping things interesting. Because who needs peace and quiet when you can have a full-blown internal circus? It leaves me questioning everything—am I overreacting? Is this normal? Should I be worried about being worried? The layers of doubt are like an onion, and not the tasty kind you add to your salad.
And just when you think it might be packing up to leave, anxiety pulls out its suitcase and announces it’s staying a while longer. It doesn’t matter how many deep breaths you take or how much you meditate; it’s got its own agenda. It’s like trying to evict a squatter who’s got the legal system on their side.
Last week while I was in the car on my way to work, it started—out of the blue. I woke up with a heavy feeling for no reason at all. No nightmare, no midnight snack regrets, nothing. I was fine when I went to bed. But anxiety apparently missed me so much, it had to poke its ugly head out. It started slow, and I dismissed it. I focused on my breathing, tried a gratefulness exercise, and it was fine. Until, on my way to work, it hit full-blown.
Anxiety, if it had a physical form, might look like the scary monster that lives under your bed. You can feel its presence, the way it makes your skin crawl and your heart race, but you can’t see it. It's that constant, shadowy figure lurking just out of sight, always in the periphery of your vision. You know it's there, but no one else seems to understand or believe you.
It creeps up on you, like a dark cloud spreading across a clear sky. You feel it first as a tightening in your chest, a knot that pulls tighter with every breath. Your heart races, pounding as if it's trying to escape your ribcage. It’s like you’ve swallowed a swarm of bees, buzzing and vibrating through your veins.
Your palms get clammy, and you grip the steering wheel tighter, hoping the physical contact will ground you. But your mind is a tornado, spinning thoughts so fast you can’t catch any of them. Every sound is amplified—the honk of a car horn, the murmur of a radio ad, the whisper of your own breath—all blending into a cacophony that makes you want to scream.
Your vision narrows, and it feels like you’re looking through a tunnel, the edges of your sight blurring out. It’s as if time slows down, each second stretching into an eternity. Your stomach churns, and you feel lightheaded, like you might pass out or throw up—or both. The rational part of your brain knows you’re safe, but the rest of you is in full-blown fight-or-flight mode, ready to either run away or curl up into a ball.
I tried to remind myself that this was just another episode, something I’ve faced countless times before. I turned on some calming music, focused on my breathing again, and kept telling myself, "This too shall pass." By the time I reached the office, the intensity had not actually faded. The thing is, I had to pretend I was okay. I was going through the motions without actually knowing what was going on.
Walking into the office felt like stepping onto a stage. I plastered a smile on my face, greeted my colleagues, and acted as if everything was perfectly fine. Inside, though, it was a different story. My heart was still racing, my mind still in turmoil. Every task felt monumental, and simple decisions seemed impossible.
Meetings were a blur. I nodded at the right times, took notes, and even managed to crack a joke or two. But my brain was on autopilot, navigating the day while my anxiety monster lurked just beneath the surface. It felt like I was living a double life—one part of me functioning, the other part silently screaming.
Despite the chaos inside, I found small victories that helped me get through the day. A brief moment of peace during lunch when a colleague made me laugh. A successful project update that, miraculously, went off without a hitch. I also leaned on various coping mechanisms to keep myself grounded. I took short breaks to step off my desk and walk around. I practiced mindfulness exercises, focusing on the present moment rather than the whirlwind in my mind. And when it got really tough, I texted my partner who understands my struggles, just to feel a connection and remind myself that I’m not alone.
Today's Wisdom
Today's message from my "Pick your message of the day" jar was particularly insightful:
"Wisdom is the reward you get for a lifetime of listening when you would rather have talked."
This message hit home for me. Dealing with anxiety has taught me the importance of listening—listening to my body, my thoughts, and the people around me. It’s about being present, even when my mind wants to race ahead. It’s about finding wisdom in the quiet moments and learning to be okay with the silence.
By the end of the day, I was exhausted but also proud of myself. I had managed to get through it, despite the anxiety. Each day, each moment like this, teaches me something new about resilience and the importance of self-compassion. Living with anxiety is an ongoing journey, and while it’s not easy, every small victory is a step forward.
Thank you for being here and sharing this journey with me. Your presence means the world to me. Feel free to comment, share, or ask anything you want. And remember, if all else fails, there's always chocolate, sarcasm, and pretending you have your life together!
Remember, keep whispering your truth—because every day is a new adventure.
Take care of yourselves.
Leila