Someone updates their facebook status. “is in a relationship with”. a sentence that is rarely finished with anxiety. chronic pain. fatigue.
The more I think about it, the more I realize that I am in an open relationship with anxiety, chronic pain, and chronic fatigue (CFS). I am also in a relationship with my partner, who lives with me, and helps me deal with these destructive relationships which I can’t get away from.
It is like I am married to Anxiety, and we aren’t allowed to get a divorce, nor live apart. So we live here, together in this house, which is my body.
On bad days we will fight, and break things, anxiety will push stuff around inside of our shared house, which also happens to be my body. Anxiety doesn’t care though. Anxiety doesn’t care if they are hurting me, or our shared house.
JUST KILL YOURSELF
I have accepted my fate, that we have to live here together. So, like anyone in an abusive relationship, I… let Anxiety go through the motions, I let them run through the house and wreck things. While I sit silently in a corner hiding.
the constant tension, the fear that they’ll break something. break me. hurt me so much that there is no return. parts of the house become off limits though, but in order to keep anxiety only located in my chest, tension spreads, to shut off the exit routes. My arms, my hands, wrists will contort, as I am trying to calm down anxiety inside of me.
Unfortunately Anxiety will have none of it. “Calm down please.” -NO THE WORLD IS ENDING. “look the world isn’t ending *point at window*” – NO? NO? Okay, BUT FUCK YOU YOU BITCH FOR TELLING ME I AM WRONG.
Anxiety is not reasonable, and not necessary a creature of anger. Just that the rest of the body goes into shutdown, to take care of Anxiety. We care for them, and the concerns they have, we want to help. We want to rationalize. but we end up paralyzed, while trying to calm them down.
Hi, friends, I’m in a relationship with anxiety. – HOW DARE YOU TELL ANYONE WE ARE TOGETHER. I’m not comfortable with you talking about us with other people. Stop it. STOP IT.
Anxiety will always tell us to not talk about them, we are only allowed to talk with them. But when we do, they lead the conversation. Or they make sure we are both quiet.
As I writhe in pain, pain caused by Anxiety, I am told “just break up with them”, by someone who’s never been in a destructive relationship. Who has never feared for their life.
When I talk about Anxiety, they punish me. and I hurt more. I can never talk about them without them showing up, and wrecking havoc in our house.
Sometimes they leave for a while. I don’t notice, because I am occupied with activities that I can’t do when they are around. I can do things which I love, and would love to do more. things I don’t have energy to do when Anxiety is home.
when Anxiety is loud, I get quiet. I may go and rest. Or try to find an outlet, or a distraction. Like eating. Let’s sit down and break bread. Let’s eat, to feel better. -FATTY, why are you eating that? Stop eating. eat more to calm down. Just another piece of crunchy chocolate. chompchomp.
It never helps to eat with anxiety, but I always wish, that today it will work, just this time.
I see myself as a very outgoing person, a happy person who enjoys the company of other people. But on days when Anxiety is present, I am not me, I am quiet instead of talkative. And I just want to hide, because why should I spend time with people if I am not me.
I don’t think Anxiety will ever leave me. And I just have to make due. Sometimes I can rationalize with myself, rather than Anxiety. I will ignore Anxiety’s answers to my questions, and look for my own answers. Sometimes I have to repeat the question over and over, until my voice can be louder than the voice of Anxiety. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.
This is a short essay, and not nearly exhaustive on the subject of living with anxiety.