My Friend, Anxiety.

Hi beautiful people ❤

It’s been a while; I have been swept up in the whirlwind that is the finality of year 12. I won’t bore you all with the details but yes, it has been a rollercoaster, physically and emotionally and mentally and intellectually and spiritually. The whole lot. But I’ve had a lot of beautiful people here backing me up, both from my family and loved ones, and on the social world of Instagram.

Anyway. What has sparked my motivation to share with all of you after so long… this evening, I’ve been searching through my old short pieces of story writing. And I read over something that I’d forgotten about. It captivated my attention and I’d really like to share it with you all… because it is something I feel resonates with me still, so deeply.

It is how I perceive the small, scared girl of Anxiety within me, who seems terrifying, but really just wants to be heard and loved. It’s a beautiful way to look at it, I thought. So here it goes…

~*~

My Friend, Anxiety.

Sometimes I wonder what the girl I am would be like without my anxiety. All the flaws inside my head. Gone. I look out at this one blinking star right ahead of me, and wonder, all those light years away, if it sees another life. What am I doing? I like to think that I’m riding free somewhere, atop this beautiful big horse I can only see in my dreams. Flying over the ground, churning the earth up in his great hooves as he was born to do. Like he should do. Mane and tail streaming behind him in an elegant storm of earth and wind and fire and horse. And I am just there, moving along with him, faster than even time can travel us.

But then, I know, that she wouldn’t really be me. Because she doesn’t have the anxiety. She doesn’t have the things that make her… well, me. My God, it causes me pain. Sometimes it’s just a shiver, or the uncomfortable sensation that crawls over my fingers as they go numb while I type something up at 1:09am in the morning on a winter’s night. But other times… you have no idea. It’s like I can’t breathe. It’s like someone, or some much stronger force than ever known to mankind, is forcing me down under water. And to stay there. Without any release. It feels like I’m suffocating. It feels like I’m drowning and there’s absolutely nothing I can do to reach the surface. It feels like I’m going to die. I’m going to die and no one is going to care. No one is going to notice my absence, or come looking for me. The itching feeling at the back of their minds that they’re forgetting something, like a tinned can of corn they left at the supermarket, will eventually buzz away. And I will be left to drown, to suffocate, to die on my own.

But despite this pain. Despite this awful sensation that I can’t explain, this instinct that I am going to die. Despite everything inside my head. The whirlwind of emotions, the spiralling storms and cyclones of thoughts that devastate any sliver of peace I’ve managed to form, so that I have to start again from scratch. Despite any of this… there is beauty in it. There is beauty in my friend Anxiety. Yes, she is my friend. I smile when I think of her like that. This little me, small and scared and thinking she is so alone, tucked away in the corner of my mind, just wanting to be heard, and fearing being found out at the same time. But she is so beautiful… she doesn’t realise it. And she is a part of me. I will never leave her, nor she me. I will be there with her forever, even when no one believes her, or the world is against her. She will always have me to keep her safe. To tell her that it’s all okay. That no bloody wonder she gets herself worked up over this funny little thing called life. Because it’s hard! And I totally get that. I get that as much as anyone else who thinks to themselves; “hey, this is a little weird, don’t you think? That we all seem so relaxed, when we really shouldn’t? Because who knows why we’re here? We don’t! Or is it just me?”

But I will also never leave her, or criticise her, or put her in the wrong, or leave her in the dark, because she creates the beauty in me. Because with all her existential sufferings, her painstakingly agonising questions, her dragged out insomnia, her irrational fears, come all her big ideas. Her desire to create something so big and beautiful and completely unbeknownst to man. Her huge heart and immense compassion for the souls around her. Her productive highs, with all these large and wonderful aspirations and wonders and revelations, these sparks to begin something anew, to accomplish so much. There comes her creativity. Her passion. Her drive. Her spirit.

And, would you believe this… her will to live.

She just wants someone to love her. To hold her when she is shaking and quivering in life’s too-strong grip, and tell her that everything will be okay. No words or advice needed. She doesn’t need someone to make it better; she has to do that on her own. She just needs someone to listen, and to understand, and to just hold and comfort her. To tell her that she isn’t alone. To appreciate her. To see the beauty in her, the beautiful things she can create and is capable of with her flaws, like I see in her. To simply – and nothing more – be there, along with her on this journey that Anxiety and I have to take. Not to direct us… but to reassure me that I have someone who is here with me.

I feel all of this and more, because she is a part of me.

We are one. We complement one another, in both our highs and lows. One cannot survive without the other. It’s beautiful though, really; not tragic like some would think. It is like a young superhero learning to harness her dangerous and unpredictable powers, which will eventually bloom into something so much more beautiful… something so much more elegant… something she can use to her advantage, if she can just find inner balance.

We are learning to harness our power. Slowly but surely. And until then, even if it takes the rest of my life, I will stay by her on this journey, and she will me, even when no one else will… until she is ready to let go, and to flourish on her own, in peace.

self love

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