What is normal? I don’t know what is normal anymore. My anxiety is becoming my normal state. I’ve been her prisoner for far too long.
She has consumed me—we have become two people inside one mind. I constantly struggle and I fight with her.
She wants to take control and sometimes, she does—and she holds me captive.
She is making me live in constant fear of what would happen if I do this or that. I always have to ask her for permission to do anything—but most of the time, she won’t let me do anything.
She has taken a role of my jailer—I am trapped.
I spend my days closed between my four lonesome walls, feeling those walls getting narrower as the seconds, minutes are going by—I am afraid I’m going to be squashed by my own mind.
Anxiety is somewhere in the middle of the room pulling four ropes hooked on four walls closer to the center. And I can’t do anything about it—I am completely helpless.
I know that everything that I’m going through is in my head, but somehow, I have lost my way. I know that deep in my mind I’m still my old self—I just can’t find a map that will show me the way out.
This mind of mine has become a huge maze and every turn I make gets me deeper and deeper in the maze—unable to find my way out, ever again.
Today, I have good days and those bad ones. On a good day, I can see clearly—life is beautiful again, everything makes sense. But, unfortunately, that doesn’t last forever.
It’s like on good days my anxiety is taking a break.
She is tired and she needs some sleep. That is when I take control—and I like it. I like being in charge of my life—who wouldn’t?
And then, all of a sudden, anxiety wakes up—fresh and ready to destroy yet another day I have got left to live.
Sometimes I just spend my days sitting and lying in bed feeling completely lost in my own mind. I stare at an empty wall and I imagine what I’m capable of doing, but I can’t. I’m afraid.
I’m afraid I will fail. I’m afraid people will judge me. I’m afraid anxiety will show her true face instead of me showing my own.
Today, I’m doing much better. I like to write. When I feel extremely bad, I put my words on a piece of paper and I feel better. It’s like I let go of my anger.
It’s like I’m telling my anxiety to fuck off and then, it’s her turn to feel like crap. She is scared of me—and I’m glad. Be scared for a change as I was before.
I don’t know if my words have found their way to your hearts, but know this—I’m feeling better. So, whoever is reading this, thank you for being part of my life.
Thank you for reading this and in that way, helping me to cope with my pain.
You mean more to me than you think. I know there are many people out there struggling with the same problem as I am and I know a lot of you can relate and can find yourselves in what I’m writing and feeling.
Once again, thank you for making me feel better and for letting me know I’m not the only one who feels like this.
And finally, this is a message to all of you (and me).
Keep in mind words such bravery, strength, courage, and trust—because you will need them, as do I.
In order for us to win our life battle, we need to understand these words and use them—every hour, every minute and every second of the day.
We are strong enough.
Thank you for reading this.
Thank you for helping me. (I hope I made you feel better, too.)