Somehow, saying it that way is easier than saying, “I’ve been having anxiety…”
Anxiety is one of those words. Much like it’s sibling, Depression, we cower from the words themselves, as if the mere saying of them is somehow damaging.
I’m not going to lie. I don’t know how to handle anxiety or depression – in myself, or others. I’m a logical person by nature. I like reason and order, neither of which have anything to do with anxiety or depression.
I like to feel in control and when anxiety sneaks up on me – because it always sneaks up – I feel entirely out of control.
I don’t presume to speak for anyone else. I don’t know what others go through. I don’t know their triggers and I do not judge.
My anxiety is little. It’s like little tiny Dementors, sucking away at my happiness, until it feels like I have my own private rain cloud following me around. It lodges itself in my throat, unrelentingly interfering with my ability to breathe freely. It sits on my chest – a weighty companion that simply does not belong.
My anxiety chips away at my confidence.
I am usually my number 1 fan. I know what my skill set is and I will happily promote the hell out of myself. I’m not an arrogant person. I just believe in self-love, because the way we treat ourselves, is like a catalyst for others to follow suit.
I’m like a L’oreal ad – I’m totally worth it!
At the moment, my confidence is shot.
It started before Europe. A bunch of little things had me pinned down and I was just treading water, waiting for the holiday that would change it all.
5 weeks of suspended reality is a pretty good fix for anything, but nothing stays suspended forever.
Home is where reality lives and all my little things have gotten a whole lot bigger, in the absence of gelato and Mediterranean sunsets.
I’m not in trouble. This is not a cry for help. More like a call to arms.
If people feeling weakened by their mental state, band together, suddenly the words lose some of their power. Anxiety and Depression are quite literally, not four letter words.
We need to take away the shame associated, because there is no shame in needing help, or feeling overwhelmed, or recognising within, that something just isn’t quite right.
Winter will pass. My crisis of confidence will fade. My Dementors will slink back to wherever it is they hide, when they aren’t sucking away at my happiness.
The mind is a powerful tool and it cuts both ways. It can convince me that I am a Beyonce-like Goddess, who will one day run the world. It can also have me hiding inside of tracksuit pants, unprepared to leave my house, because, what’s the point?
It all sounds pretty dark.
In contrast to previous posts, it is.
But life isn’t always Rich with Sunshine. Sometimes it gets cloudy and on these days, I appreciate that I am still Rich with Love.