I feel like I’ve been staring at this empty space for years.
So many times I fill this white page with words that never get published. I want to talk about my feelings of anxiety but I can’t figure out a way to put my thoughts into the world and be content for people to read them.
The day I publish this that changes, it’s time to talk and it’s time to not be afraid anymore.
I have anxiety.
There, I said it.
I’m not diagnosed and that is probably the first thing I should tell you all.
This is because the thought of telling a Doctor how I feel fills me with dread, stress, anxiety and that puts me at quite the impasse.
Some days I feel so full that I turn into a complete b*tch and lash out at the people closest to me. It happens because I bottle my feelings and in the end the bottle becomes full and those feelings have to go somewhere. Anywhere.
Am I normal? Probably.
Anxiety for me feels like a jack-in-the-box, you wind and wind and then it pops out. This is when a panic attack happens for me. Sometimes I will the panic attack to take over, because I have a routine on how to handle that, and I know calm will then follow. (Or sleep because panic attacks are exhausting!)
Let’s take blogging for example. I currently have 13 draft posts. Thirteen. All topics are something I want to talk about that mean a lot to me. My sons, my body confidence, books. Yet I lack the ability to finish and publish one. Why? Anxiety.
I have blogging anxiety because I overthink everything I do. I sit here and think if I write about myself, a blog that isn’t a source of information to someone else that the hits won’t come, that nobody is going to read it. That, ultimately, I fail at writing.
So they sit there in limbo just waiting, for quite some time.
That is until a good day comes. Where the urge to be bold and brave strikes me and I press publish.
I’m very much like this on a daily basis, money, parenting, friendships.. you name it, I worry about it. On the worst days, it can be 3am and I’ll be there in bed letting something ridiculous take over my body and mind until I am forced to wake my husband and have him help me through a panic attack.
I feel broken, like a part of my brain is missing and frankly, I don’t really know how to handle that. If this post makes it out into the world it will be my braveness to seek help that does it, because I cannot be alone in my thoughts. There has to be someone out there who can relate to this and leave me a word of encouragement.