“Life is ten percent what you experience and ninety percent how you respond to it.”
Anxiety is so difficult to describe to people who don't suffer from attacks. I'll be quietly sitting in bed with not a care in the world then all of a sudden, BOOM, my chest gets this sharp pain. My eye sockets become heavy, my hands begin to shake, my head feels like it has separated from my body. It's the worst fucking feeling in the world. There is not one thought you can run through your head to calm down your overworking mind, it's like the only way to get through it is to sit there and sometimes just fucking cry.
I've suffered from the attacks since I was a little girl, most of the time not even knowing it was happening as it overcame my body. But as I got older, I began to learn what was happening to me, that I wasn't just crazy. But the more I learned about them the worse they got.
So, here I am. 4 am.Restless in my bed, with what feels like 300 pounds pressing down on my chest.
It was raining about 10 minutes ago, which was kind of a therapeutic background noise for me. But now I only hear the loud hum of the air conditioner downstairs coinciding with the deep exhales I find myself letting out as I attempt to breathe away some of this anxiety.
I know most people have their own shit that fucks with their daily routine of life, and if they don't, then I envy them. I guess some people are given certain things to face in life because our bodies and minds were entrusted to handle it. Someone like me was meant to carry this burden so that someone else who couldn't handle it would be okay. I just have to remind myself on a daily basis that this is not the end of the world. Things will get better.