Anxiety strikes again.
This morning my demon named Anxiety pounced on me as I was headed out on my walk to work. Instead of the tension first building in my chest and lungs and working up to restrict my throat, the beast went straight to my head. I felt like thousands of bees were whirring around my brain forcing any positive thoughts to be BLENDED AND SHREADED as I tried to think them.
Earlier in the morning I had thought of other things I wanted to think about on my walk to work. Any attempt to make that happen were immediately destroyed — BLEND AND SHREAD this, BLEND AND SHREAD that. Anxiety had other things in mind for me, and none of it was good, or constructive, or calming.
I tried to imagine Anxiety walking alongside me. Acknowledging It, not fighting, just letting It do Its thing for a short spell and seeing I was uninterested in what it wanted to haunt me with. But BLEND AND SHREAD the image of Anxiety walking alongside me. It had fully occupied my brain.
Immediately upon getting into work, I pulled out my laptop and started to type this. Writing, next to medicine, is really the best way for me to force an end to a bout with Anxiety or the onset of a panic attack. So here I am. Anxiety is being forced out of my brain, down a now stressed out neck and arms, and flowing out my fingertips on to my keyboard. I actually envision that’s what’s happening. I’m not sure that’s part of what helps me return to a semblance of normalcy. Perhaps it’s just the writing. But I’m not going to question anything that seems like it helps.
Before signing off, I want to make clear: my current med mix and tricks to escape Anxiety have me in a much better place. The cost benefit analysis is that I will take an infrequent panic attack or a manageable encounter with Anxiety compared to what I used to face … much more frequent incidents of both.
But I’ve also accepted that my meds and brain tricks don’t always do the trick.
And so, I write.
Anxiety, gone; whirring razor-winged bees in my brain, gone.
Drop the mic.