Sometimes I want to scream. Sometimes I want to cry. Other times I find myself trapped in anxiety’s grip, unable to get any words out.
Withdrawn. Isolated. Unable to seek help. Sound familiar?
Not only do I feel physical fear at the thought of discussing my anxiety with anyone around me, I find myself becoming more and more preoccupied with the thought of saying something wrong, saying something that will get me in trouble.
The deathly silence.
I can see myself becoming withdrawn. People ask me how my day was.
“Fine.”
If I say anything else it will get back to my boss that I moaned about my day. And we can’t have that.
But I can’t stop. Anxiety is slowly taking over every single cell of my brain and I’m filled with terror at the thought of speaking to my friends. And it breaks my heart. But I’m scared.
Other times I will spend the whole night ruminating over something I said to my housemate. I shouldn’t have said that. I should not have opened up.
I will then spend the next 4-6 hours solidly considering every single worst case scenario that could possibly come from me saying that sentence.
And then I make my vows to my anxiety. I will not do it again, I promise. This won’t happen again. I’ll stop telling my friends how I’m feeling; it will only go wrong.
And the deathly silence continues.