I’ve been scrambling around the house for an hour and a half…doing laundry, cleaning up, trying to organize things. Because when my anxiety is getting bad, out of control, high, loud, unbearable…whatever the heck you want to call it, I have coping mechanisms. I clean the bathroom, I do laundry, I refold towels in the linen closet, I use the Swiffer (this is my usual go-to). When my anxiety makes me feel like everything is spinning out of control, I need to organize things. I need to feel in control of something, so my anxiety doesn’t spin me out of control. Today, I’ve been relatively busy all day. But I sit here writing this at 10:06 PM and feel like I haven’t done enough, that there is more to do. Over and over, it keeps telling me “do more”.
There was a point today, where I didn’t know what to do with myself. I soon realized that I was walking aimlessly around the house. My mom came downstairs, took one look at me, hugged me tight, and said, “you’re shaking” and I said, “I know”. My anxiety had my entire body shaking. I felt so lost. I didn’t know where to start, what to do, where to go. There was this hot mess of thoughts running around in my head, which made it impossible for me to decide anything. I know what is happening, I can usually deal with it, but not today. And now I’m exhausted both mentally and physically BUT there is laundry left to be done and my anxiety is telling me that I have to finish it.
Living like this is completely exhausting. I’m attempting to untangle the mess that is currently in my head and write it out. But it can be so hard, explaining something that some days you don’t completely understand yourself. How do I explain that I love myself, but right now I don’t feel like I am worthy of being loved. (I KNOW, CRAZY) I feel this way because I’ve had my heart broken too many times. People have been by my side and as soon as things got “tough” *poof* they were gone. So why bother putting the effort in? Why bare my soul to someone who could end up leaving me? I sit here now, crying. Okay, I do realize I am worthy of being loved. Anytime I say that to myself in my head, tears well up.
People don’t realize that I fight with my mind every single day. Some days it’s easier, some days I can’t get out of bed, some days all I can do is cry. But I also have days where I win, I conquer it all. No two days are ever the same.
I felt like before this COVID-19 happened, I was starting to get things together. But everything had to be put on hold. I had to hit pause on something I felt was finally a win for me. I’m not looking for sympathy, I’m not looking for your pity. I’m just trying to continue moving forward.
I live with it all the time. It doesn’t stop. Yes, it quiets down some days and other days it roars so loudly. Some good days I can conquer the world. Bad days I’m on edge of flight or fight all day.
I’ve recently started a new medication routine, under the advisement of my psychiatrist. It’s too soon to tell if it is working (which is the really shitty part). Sometimes you won’t know for at least 3-4 weeks. But I trust him and it’s not a new medication, just an extra dosage of something I’m already taking. Fingers crossed it works out.
It’s been one hell of Monday, that started off with everything covered in snow. I’ve got laundry to finish and steps to get in.
You and I are both worthy of being loved.
Sending love and light.