I’ve always been an anxious person, I overthink everything. My mind never seems to switch off, it can get exhausting. Recently, my anxiety has been the worst it has ever been, I’ve been struggling to concentrate, to relax and even to sleep. I’ve been waking up tired and exhausted because I’ve struggled to shut my eyes till 3 am in the morning. I’ve been constantly feeling agitated, anxious and stressed out, I keep thinking about everything that is going wrong in my life and worrying over things that haven’t even happened.
I haven’t been able to relax because I can’t stop overthinking, it’s the fear of failure, the fear of change, I’m exhausted, both physically and mentally, I’m sick and tired of my brain not being able to slow down or even switch off. I just want a break, a break from my own mind. I’m tired of constantly waiting for things to go wrong, for things to change, for someone to get mad at me, for something bad to happen. I’m constantly thinking of the worst, It feels like I’m constantly waiting for pain. I’m tired of my brain making up scenarios that may never happen. I’m tired of convincing myself that they will come true. I’m tired of my mind playing tricks on me.
I’m tired of apologising for everything, I’m tired of apologising for the things that I don’t need to apologise for. I’m tired of apologising for the things that haven’t even crossed the other persons mind. I’m tired of always thinking of the worst possible scenario. I’m tired of listening to that voice inside my head. I’m tired of being scared of being too happy. Because my happiness doesn’t last. I’m constantly waiting for something bad to happen. I’ll be waiting for something to go wrong, and when it does, I’ll tell myself “I knew it would”.
I’m tired of crying myself to sleep, I’m tired of the “what ifs” that torture every inch of my body. I’m tired of people telling me “it’s going to be okay” because that doesn’t stop the millions of thoughts that are rushing through my mind.
Anxiety has been a part of my life ever since I can remember. It’s currently 18:46 on a Sunday evening, I’m sat on the floor next to my bed trying to think of everything that could possibly go wrong in the coming week. I’ve become so good at hiding my anxiety and overthinking. I’ll hide my anxiety behind nail-biting, by clenching my hands so hard to stop my hands from shaking, avoiding eye contact, listening instead of talking too much, staying quiet because I’m panicking inside and hiding it behind a smile that I am struggling to make. And when people say “Hey, how are you?” I think I’ve become unbelievably good at lying and saying “good, how are you?”. Because, I just don’t want to bore people with the details of what is actually going on in my life and my mind (that’s what therapy is for, right?). They’ll never know how hard it was for me to get out of bed and actually make myself look presentable.
Writing is my therapy, through my writing I can pour my heart out onto paper, with words that I am unable to say. I feel lighter, as I pour my pain onto pages.