That bi***… I mean, witch – Anxiety

“You’re entirely bonkers, but I’ll tell you a secret. All the best people are”

– Lewis Carroll.

Today I’m tackling a tough subject. You already know what it is from my beautifully worded title. Maybe they can make a wordsmith out of me yet. So I’m posting this after the events of this dreadful day, but I wanted to make sure I wrote on the day so you could capture my wrath and… well, I guess feelings?…feelings? BLURGR. 
Enjoy my babbling, and trying my hardest to not swear the whole way through (which was fu***** difficult), which I’m very proud of myself for accomplishing.

1st May 2019.

Today I  woke up feeling great. Excited to see my mum and sisters for brunch in the sunshine. Little did I know the wicked witch of arseholery was going to creep up on me and dig her spindly nails into my spine to control me like a little puppet. 

The thing I’ve come to realise about Anxiety, from talking to lots of friends who also suffer under the hands of this insufferable gargoyle, is that her talents lie with how she makes you feel like you’re dying. From making you feel like your chest is going to incave, to making you feel like you’ve just been sucked into a vortex where you can’t escape. 

What is the personal nightmare the witch has bestowed upon me? Not being able to breathe, blurred vision, a numb spine (which causes me to walk like a newborn deer) and the most fun of them all, if she’s feeling extra devious, is sickness. Sounds like a jolly old time doesn’t it? You jealous? If you are I’ll hand it right over, free of charge because I’m nice like that.

Now, I’m pretty new to the all-consuming Anxiety, so I don’t know the tips and tricks to battle it yet. However, I do know I don’t want to live this way. So I’ve reached out for help, which was a huge thing for me to do. I’ve always (I mean ALWAYS) been the type of person to sort out my problems by myself, but this time…I feel helpless.

I’ve been through stuff in my life to earn me my armour, as everyone has. My armour is impenetrable (bar a few soft spots, of course) …or, well it was. I feel like a failure to be taken down so easily by Anxiety, but I guess if it was easy to win the battle, then it wouldn’t be classed as a mental illness would it. 

  • Saying that, when did this repulsive witch even rise from the depths of hell? I mean, sure, it probably always has been lurking in the shadows. Maybe when I was younger I was ignorant to its looming over peoples’ heads (get back to the point Dily). 

Anyway, I’m one terrified, worrisome person. Talking about my worries and fears etc is terrifying to me. Almost as though if I say them out loud enough they’ll come true (remember that Bloody Mary game? Yeah), that’ll truly break me. How funny, I said before (if you read my first blog) that I’m not broken…feels like I spoke too soon… ANYWAY negative Nelly.

I know there’s a lot of people out there who aren’t at a point where they want to seek help from a doctor, or whoever I will be going to. So, I will share my pathway to the killing of this (word that isn’t a swearword…word that isn’t a swearword…) sensor please! *beeping* *beep* *beep* haha, couldn’t do it.

Anyway, If you’re interested, keep an eye out for updates on my battle. I’m going in ready for a war, and I won’t stop until I win!

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