a dialogue about anxiety.

 

Today is a weird day. I always have a rough time dealing with anxiety after I have an uncomfortable conversation with someone or have a feeling that someone isn’t entirely happy with me. Tonight I feel really alone. Almost absent from myself, like I’m waiting for someone or something to piece me back together. I’m staring at myself in the mirror wondering who it is looking back and why she feels sad. I don’t know why I feel this way and there really is nothing I can do to control it other than wait for it to pass. For some reason November 22 is cursed, as no matter what on earth I do, I always end up falling asleep feeling shit.
 It hurts me when on the odd occasion I bring up my anxiety and it is quickly denounced as something I just “shouldn’t think about.” To those people that do struggle with mental illness, the pain of knowing that you aren’t being taken seriously or even worse, made to feel like it doesn’t matter; I can relate and sympathise with you entirely. It’s that feeling in your stomach and the hole in your heart laced with guilt that you aren’t even able to understand yourself that is the most painful. When I’m on a low, it high jacks anything that would normally make me happy, and that sucks, majorly. Writing about how i feel helps a lot. Talking is a lot harder, but I think I am getting better. Basically, your kindness and your time is the most valuable asset you can offer someone who isn’t feeling their best. I know it would help me if I could be taken more seriously when I bring it up in conversation. If you’re reading this and can relate somehow, or want to talk, always feel free to contact me. I’m a lot better at offering advice than I am at taking it.

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