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    • vanye

      For me, Anxiety is something that comes out of nowhere, whacks me over the head, and makes it impossible for me to think about anything else. It can be about rent, bills, my daughter’ health, how fast she’s growing up, whether or not she has autism…. the list goes on.
      On a good day, I can shove it behind my “everything’s ok” mask, but on bad days I can’t, and it’s constant hand wringing, hair twirling, fiddling with my necklace, talking, and cleaning. The cleaner my house, the more anxious I am. I have to move, or I will sit and my mind will race, my palms will sweat, my Irritable Bowel Syndrome will act up, and I will feel miserable, tired, and cranky. All the while, all I crave is someone to hold me, let me talk as much as I need, and who will not judge. Ironically, I have this in my daughter, but I won’t let her be that person, because I feel as though I’m being selfish by making her do that for her mother. So I push it down, tell her I’m ok, and feel even worse because I’ve left myself with no support.
      This is what Anxiety is for me. It’s overwhelming, irrational and isolating.

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