Anxiety

Today I looked in the mirror and hated what I saw more than I have in a long time.

I picked at my basic brown eyes as if they don't show me the beautiful world around me. Who would want to look at these forever?

I covered my stretch marks as if they are not beautiful representations of my growth and hard work. Who would find these worth holding?

I muted my mouth as if it hasn't been the source of great conversation. Who would ever want to listen to me?

I tried to lift my shoulders but they were heavy with unspoken emotions and exhaustion, from trying to be everything for everyone besides myself. But if I'm not helping then I'm not important...right? My hands began to shake and I sat on the floor, head tucked between my legs and I cried. I couldn't look in the mirror, too ashamed of my relapse. My body heaves as it releases the burden of others, and my heart as always tries to carry the weight it was never supposed to know existed. I cry over the feeling of unlovability I feel. How had I worked so hard over the past year to love myself, just to wind up back in the same spot of failure and hatred? My hands shake as they run through my hair and search for paper to rip, because when I have anxiety attacks I rip the paper to show my brokenness, then I clean it up to represent the fact I've overcome it. I don't have paper, so instead, I lay on my back and start speaking to myself. I lay my shaky palms flat on the hardwood floor and blink through the salty tears of shame that run like rivers on my cheeks. Through soft shallow breaths, I talk to the anxiety that lays next to me, holding the mirror. I explain to it that it's hurting me, that it's ruining potential relationships. I plead with it to shatter the mirror, to for once let me feel worth someone's time. It chuckles and replies, "I'm not the one holding the hammer." I ignore its comment, there is no way I have the hammer to shatter the mirror, and even if I did, I could never shatter it, it's too big, it's too much, I'm too much. I always have been.

That's why they left.

That's why they now smile across the room without walking over. That's why she moved out and never spoke to me again. That's why it has to be. Right? Because what do I do if, in the end, I'm not to blame?

The anxiety speaks again, "Blame yourself, it's easier than forgiveness."

I mumble that it's right. Why forgive me? Why allow me the freedom to separate people's actions from my worth?

I'll tell you why. Because not everything is about YOU!

Anxiety would have you believe that the world revolves around you and that everything wrong with you, is your fault. It thrives off the idea that you feel worthless, and at fault even when people's actions are their own.

Anxiety thrives off the unforgiveness of self and others. That's what I struggle with. I bottle all the what if's and the "had I just done this differently." I don't forgive myself easily when I skip a gym day or eat a sweet treat or mess up a conversation with my crush.

That's why my anxiety holds a mirror everywhere I go. To constantly reflect on what could have been.

To round out my anxiety attack, I slowly sat up and finally looked at myself in the reflection again. My anxiety laughed at me thinking it won, but then I spoke.

I am safe

the glass cracks.

My brown eyes are beautiful.

the glass cracks. My stretch marks are worth love. the glass cracks. I am not too much for the right people.

the glass cracks. I forgive myself for taking on things that were not my fault. the glass cracks. I am loved. the glass shatters. Well, I'll be damned, guess I was holding that hammer after all. ~~~

Over my short time on earth, I've learned people love you until you trust them with emotion. Then they fake niceties and show shallow sympathies to things they don't try to understand. On the flip side, I've also started to learn that not everything needs to be spoken to every stranger you meet, or every friend you make.

Some friends are not built to help carry the weight of our pain, they are simply there as distractions to it. Then there are others who come in and make you want to be better. They pour into you in small ways that allow you to pick up the hammer and slowly chip at the mirror of anxiety and unworthiness. Both are important people, none less valuable than the other. Through reading this mess of a blog post, I want you to know you are seen, you are not alone, and you in fact do hold the key to overcoming anxiety. In the moments it grips you, try to become proactive with how you speak to yourself, whether it be out loud, on a piece of paper, or just in your head. Anxiety hates truth because all it runs on is lies. Speak your truth even if you don't believe it at the moment. Your thoughts hold way more power than you realize, and once you begin to release those lies anxiety tries to tell you, the world becomes a new place. I by no means am perfect, nor would I pretend to be, but I have learned a good bit about my anxiety over the course of college. Please know it only has the grip you let it have. Please know even on days it wins, you are still so valuable and loved. I am proud of you for being here. You are meant 2B here, and you are meant 2B loved. Don't let anxiety steal that from you. You are so much more than your struggles, and while struggles will always happen, I hope on those nights you begin to cry alone at the reflection anxiety gives you, you also realize that the hammer is right next to you. I wrote this over 3 months ago but now felt like the right time to share. I hope you enjoy. xoxo B