Anxiety is a b*tch

“When we don’t like feeling out of control.
we don’t handle conflict well
we don’t handle being yelled at well
everything you say to us will be repeated and deconstructed in our head a million times after
and if I am silent for a while,
it is because I have to fight with her before I can fight with you.”

Photo by Aarón Blanco Tejedor on Unsplash
Poem by Jae Nichelle

Please check out her blog for more poetry here.

This video popped up on my Facebook page. I stared at the title. I stared at the the brief excerpt from the poem.
Anxiety.
I clicked the play button. I listened. I felt.
Tears were brought to my eyes as this beautiful, strong woman opened up her heart for others to see. Tears were brought to my eyes because her truth spoke volumes with my own.

After years and a broken relationship later, I finally found something that truly expressed how I have been feeling. It’s difficult to put into words how breathless you can become fighting yourself. How tired your body becomes after struggling through a single minute. How physical anxiety can be.

You can be standing in front of a crowd, seemingly fine. Yet, your hand has a slight tremble that no one seems to notice.
You can be laughing with your friends. Yet, no one notices how your eyes shift side-to-side, gauging if your reaction is alright.
You can be telling your partner you love them. Yet, they don’t catch the slight quiver in your voice from insecurity.

It’s truly exhausting always being on edge from that inner voice yelling out you to be careful or don’t you even dare try.

This video. This poem. Is everything to someone who struggles with anxiety.

Everything.

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