Just be

I am who I am.
And with my anxiety, sometimes it really, really, really sucks.

It’s different for everyone who struggles with anxiety. Everyone has their own insecurities, their own worries. We’re not alike in that sense. But we’re alike in that fact that we struggle, and although it’s hard, at least we struggle together.

I had a really difficult week this past one. What a way to start off 2018, right? Sometimes that just happens. But I’m angry at myself for it. I hid it from everyone I love, like I always do, and then this morning, I broke down and exploded in tears when I was making my breakfast. I don’t even remember what I yelled out at my mom, but I’m pretty sure I said something along the lines of, “I hate this disorder, I hate that I worry about everything, I hate who I am.”

I don’t really hate who I am…not generally. But on a bad day, sometimes it feels that way.

My mom asked me what was worrying me, and I spit out, “I have no idea, just everything, too much.”

It’s exhausting, both mentally and physically, to worry about everything. I can’t even pinpoint just one thing I worry about. It’s a vicious cycle, consistently thinking negative thoughts, always worrying about everyone and everything around me. When I stop panicking about one thing, something else invades my mind, and the over thinking and agony begins all over again.

How many of you have not been able to stop shaking when you have a panic attack?
How many of you are afraid that this stupid disorder is going to push away the ones you love?
How many of you are afraid you’ll never overcome it?
How many of you have cried this week more than you’d like to admit?
How many of you worry about the physical pain you feel after an anxiety attack?
How many of you just want to shut your mind off, if only for a minute, to give you a chance to breathe?

My brain is being really freaking loud today. My anxiety has been a huge bitch the past week. It’s yelling at me all of these negative things, these awful thoughts. It’s making me cry and it’s making me shake and it’s making me cold and it’s making me angry. It’s so damn loud that I can’t seem to hear anything else. They’re going to leave you, Katie. You’re not going to get better, Katie. They all talk about you and laugh at you behind your back, Katie. The shaking begins and I can’t stop it. The tears flow out of me like a waterfall. You need help, Katie. Your loved ones say they’re there for you but they’re not. They’ll leave. You’re too much to handle. Your mind is too scattered. You just wait. You just sit, and worry, and wait.

I wish I could tell my anxiety to shut the fuck up. *sorry*

And it’s really hard hiding the panic. It’s hard hiding the worry and the sadness. It’s exhausting, not just for me, but for others around me who I boggle down with all this bullshit.

So today, I’ve cried enough and I’ve yelled enough and I’ve ugly sobbed enough to pretend. I don’t want to hide it. I don’t want to fake it. I just am who I am.

I don’t want to pretend I’m not anxious. I don’t want to pretend I’m not worrying all the damn time. I don’t want to hide away the most human, the most genuine, the most vulnerable part of me.

So today, I’m just going to be.


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