Living with Anxiety.
People think, just because my eyebrows are always on fleek, my lips are always lined, and my Instagram feed is perfectly curated, I’ve got this stable career going on, that I’ve got it all figured out. Little do they know what happens on the inside. I’ve mastered this art of putting up a facade of looking all put together, where no one can tell what’s going on inside my head.
I have Anxiety. No, it is not just worrying about stuff. It is more than that. It is so much more than that. Let me explain:
I’m always fidgeting, digging into my fingernails, my jaws all clenched and my muscles all tensed, it is like I’m trying to hold on to something so hard and I don’t want to let go. I don’t want to let go of the control, sometimes its the only control I have on my body. I have to keep reminding myself to breathe, to relax, and that everything is fine because I keep forgetting. All my mind sees are the flaws or that one tiny mistake I have made and how now I’m not perfect. And if I’m not perfect then I’m not good enough. And because I’m not good enough I’m going to be alone all my life. And if I’m going to be alone all my life, what does that say about me? I’m not good enough. My mind keeps running in a loop, infinite loop, and what happens when your system runs in infinite loop? It crashes, it crashes real hard. And that’s exactly what happens with me.
It is like there’s a demon living in my head, and it continuously tells me, what a piece of shit I am, how I am not good enough and how I’m going to fuck everything again, just like the last time. It tells me to do things, making me feel like that it will fix everything, and then I do those things, because I’m in severe need of instant gratification, even though I know it is not going to help, but I do it anyway. That’s when I lose control over everything, my mind, my body, reality, everything. The more I try controlling things the more they keep slipping out of my hand. Sometimes it is hard to tell which voice is my own, and which ones the demon or are they the same person, me.
And, then there is this fear. Fear of being alone, fear of falling, failing, fear of not being good enough, fear of death, fear of abandonment, fear of rejection, fear of not being perfect. And, how can I forget, this fear of fear, because when it starts I have no idea how to stop. Also, there are these constant nightmares that make me relieve the same past trauma over and over again.
And, if dealing with this whirlwind of emotions is not enough, I also have to deal with people who do not understand a thing about Anxiety. They think I am overreacting, fragile, weak, overdramatic, and some people even think that I’m faking it all together, you know, for attention. Because when I’m feeling like I’m dying, literally, I should not seek attention I guess, right?
So I keep it all in, put on my boldest lipstick, curl my hairs, fake a smile and show up each day and every day. Keep making my Instagram feed perfect, keep my work up to date, because nobody should know what a dark, infinite, downward spiral my mind is.