Many people know anxiety as “overthinking”. And while that’s 100% true, there are many times where I don’t have any intrusive thoughts or troubling, cyclical thought patterns in my head. Sometimes, I just know what I feel. I learned where these symptoms come from, and I learned to affectionately refer to them as “anxiety”. When I started writing this 3 sentences ago, I was totally fine. Now, I feel the familiar knot in my stomach. I am unable to finish the bagel that is sitting next to me on the table because, for me, anxiety can make me incredibly nauseous. It can be painful, sometimes, too.
It can come out of nowhere. Through no rhyme or reason.
You’re sitting alone. You hear the noise of a crowd, or the deafening silence that comes when you are all alone in your room.
You get a sinking feeling in your stomach. Maybe you get nauseous. You remind yourself to breathe. This will pass. It always does.
Sometimes, this works. Sometimes, everything escalates to a breaking point.
You’re sitting on the floor now. Hugging a pillow, or holding your knees to your chest, you feel tears streaming down your face. The thought of talking to others is both scary and the only thing that you think will save you. Because, you’re dying (*you’re not actually – this is an anxiety thought).
The muscles in your chest tighten. It feels like you’ve pulled a muscle – like an elephant is sitting on your chest.
You can’t breathe. You can’t think. You know you’re being irrational.
Your thoughts slow down, like a smudge on your glasses... only it’s your brain. It's scary. What happens when you can't think properly anymore? Why couldn’t you do something to stop this? Why doesn’t it happen to anyone else? You don’t want to tell anyone else. You fear hearing the familiar “everybody gets anxious” and “I know how you feel”.
You open a window. Turn on Amber Run’s “5AM”. Go for a walk, draw or knit. You ground yourself. If this doesn’t work, you call a friend.
Twenty minutes later, maybe an hour, maybe two. You wonder why you were worried in the first place. You think that you must have made it up. You must have been able to stop it. You know that you’re okay. You feel safe again. You feel guilty for needing others. You feel guilty that they love you. You go to bed, knowing that tomorrow is a new day and feeling hopeful that it will be a great one.
