Anxiety is that voice that keeps me up late at night when all I want to do is sleep.
It’s knowing nothing about me is normal. Even when I try so hard to be.
Anxiety is like a highlight reel of my life on rewind, but the only parts that play are the mistakes I’ve made, the people I’ve hurt, and the things I’ve done I haven’t forgive myself for.
It makes me feel like an idiot when I know normal people aren’t hung up on something that happened five years ago.
Anxiety is the ruthless critic that I’ll never be good enough for.
Because no matter what I do, say or achieve, anxiety counters it with an insult.
And I believe it.
It’s hard enough being good enough for others, it’s even harder being good enough for yourself when you are your own worst enemy.
Anxiety makes me doubt myself and doubt everyone around me. From every word I say to every text I send to every email that goes out, triple checking it multiple times.
Anxiety makes me feel like an idiot not because I mess up, but because I worry so much about mistakes.
Anxiety makes me think everyone is out to fuck me over when in reality, that isn’t the case.
I know I have good friends, so why am I questioning and doubting them when they gave me no reason to? Why do I think everyone is going to leave me when they’ve stood by me for a decade.
But anxiety makes me feel like an idiot because I need to know things are okay. I need to know you aren’t mad at me. I need constant reassurance.
Anxiety has complete control over me.
It’s questioning every text, word, and worrying to a point where emotional exhaustion is a real thing in my life.
It’s the apologizing too much and too often. Then when I try to explain to someone why I’m apologizing, as the words appear on the screen as I type them I think, “I sound like an idiot.”
Anxiety is the company at a party or in a crowd, but drowning in negativity that’s inside my own head.
So I stay silent simply observing everything going on around me out of fear of saying and doing the wrong thing. Out of fear I shouldn’t be here or no one wants me here or I was invited out of pity. That’s what anxiety tells me.
It’s wanting to talk, but not trusting myself enough to not say something stupid.
Anxiety makes me a paranoid fuck because I can tell when there’s the slightest shift in someone or in a relationship. And I try to fix it, but only make things worse.
Anxiety is striving for perfection I know I’ll never achieve it. Anxiety taunts me for my failures while ignoring my success.
Anxiety makes up every worst case scenario that can happen and then it doesn’t and I tell myself you shouldn’t have gotten so worked up. But I did.
Anxiety makes me feel like an idiot for worrying as much as I do.
It’s constantly turning around to make sure that door is locked or that stove is off. Even though I have never left the stove on or door open. Anxiety tells me “what if” and I watch in my mind as something horrible happens.
Then I turn around and double check and yes, like every day before it’s fine.
Anxiety makes me feel like an idiot because I shouldn’t be like this. But I am. I care. I care about doing the right thing. I care about saying the right thing. I care about never hurting someone.
Anxiety makes me hyper aware of things because I care too deeply.
It makes me terribly insecure.
People with anxiety struggle to live in the moment because we are always dwelling in the past and worried about the future, and I feel like an idiot because I’m trying to be as happy as everyone around me, but I struggle.
Anxiety is breaking down because something didn’t go the way I wanted it to, even though nothing ever does, I need that structure.
It’s the want and need to control everyone and everything because this thing controls me.
Anxiety makes me feel like an idiot because my mind can never be quiet and silence, and peace of mind is something I’ll never achieve in life.
And maybe I think too much and am too hard on myself, but at the end of the day, I simply try to do my best and that’s all I can ask of myself even when anxiety tells me it’s not enough.