Anxiety

We all get anxious at times. Whether it is an interview for a new job, meeting new people or going somewhere new. Being anxious, in its simplified form, is just wondering how things are going to turn out in any given situation. 

Anxiety is feeling this way about everything. 

Ev…er..y thing. Not just butterflies in your stomach either. Out and out fear. 

I am currently sitting here with tears streaming down my face. I am not sobbing, not moaning or wailing. Not sure why but am terrified that someone will see me doing this. I am so terrified of people seeing me cry that I walked off my job, quit my job, just because I was afraid I was going to start crying on the job. 

Big girls don’t cry, don’t let them see you cry at work, you’re just emotional, you’re too emotional, you’re ugly when you cry, tears never solved anything, buck up, put your big girl panties on…

I don’t know what to do. I try to keep it together and all I manage to do is pile more anxiety causing things onto the pile of anxiety that I call my life. 

I am unhappy. The logical side of my brain tells me I have no reason to be unhappy. I make gratitude lists to remind me just how loved and blessed that I am. 

I don’t know what to do.  I don’t know what not to do. 

Imoblizied.

To this day I still cannot tell you what I want. I can only tell you what I don’t want. I am tired. Exhausted, both physically and mentally. I wake up anxious over a dream that I can’t even remember. A dump list before I fall asleep doesn’t help anymore. I wake up, look over at the list and the length of the list alone creates anxiety. I don’t even have to read what is on it, just seeing how many things are on that list freaks me out. Overwhelming is an understatement. 

Those breathing exercises that are suppose to help me not hyperventilate, make me hyperventilate – I feel like I can’t get enough air in my lungs quick enough.  

I try meditating. After a few minutes I find myself pacing the house again. I exercise and end up hurting my back or neck. I think walking might help but that means getting in my car, driving somewhere to walk and that freaks me out for several reasons. Simply being in a car lately freaks me out whether I am driving or riding. I want to go home. I want to be at home. 

When I am here I feel like I am suffocating. Closed off. In prison. Thoughts racing through my head slowly enough to make me emotional yet so fast I can’t even identify them. 

I don’t know what to do.  

This will pass. It has before and I believe it will again. 

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