Heart rate 140.
Closed throat. Noticing every single sound. Sensation. Feeling, both emotionally and physically. That chair you’re sitting on? Yeah, you’re suddenly very aware of the fact that it could collapse under you, that a million people have sat on it before, oh no think of all of the germs! And now I am nauseous and wondering if I’ll make it to a bathroom in time.
That’s anxiety for me. Sometimes.
Needing to know where the bathroom is. Where the exit is. Needing to know what the dinner place is when going out, so I can research the menu and rehearse my order in my head. Having noise cancelling earphones in my bag. Wondering what that stranger over there who I’ll never see again thinks of me. I bet they hate me. I should just drop out of university because how can I help other people if I can’t help myself? My cat is going to die before me. Should I be pursuing something easier and that won’t make me cry? I am so awfully sensitive.
This is anxiety for me. Always.
It idles. Sometimes it peaks. So high. And when it comes back down, it idles.
I’m going to be the best person to help others because I’ve been in their shoes. Everything makes me cry, so why not cry about the hard and scary stuff and make something meaningful of it? I am awfully sensitive, and awfully strong. I don’t need to be one or the other. Also, hey! Hi! Yeah you! I know you’ve been otherwise, but sensitivity isn’t a weakness.
That’s what anxiety has done for me (besides destroy my gut).Return to issues