I was feeling quite panicked today in regards to the YouTube video that I had edited but didn’t like (so didn’t end up posting), and I wasn’t planning on writing this post BUT I needed something to ease my shaking hands and heavy chest.
I’d had the pounding heart and shortness of breath before, usually during a minor inconvenience, which just turned into one major inconvenience. I called it “a weird feeling” or “my chest hurts”. Never had I called it Anxiety.
Anxiety is a label. To me, anxiety was an excuse, a way to not face your fears. Anxiety was an invisible wall that stopped people from leaving their comfort zone. Though as I started emerging from my sheltered environment, emerging into the wider world of drugs, clubs, full-time work, coffee and social events; the word anxiety brought upon a different meaning.
I go through my days as normal, experiencing my bouts of stress due to deadlines and train departure times, even the state of my hair; though anxiety, on the other hand, attacks me when I least expect it.
Anxiety grabs at my heart and pounds it hard, faster than it should go like a fist opening and closing at the speed of light. It blocks the air to my lungs so I cannot breathe, and all the muscles in my body spasm.
I’m shaking, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. I’m driving, scared, not knowing how to stop this. The pain increases with each breath. Negative thought swirl around my brain. I cry out in pain, pulling over on the side of the road, listening to the soft tick tick tick of my indicator.
Click. It turns off and I call the only person who will understand.
Three rings; he picks up asking me if everything is alright. It’s an unusual time to be calling.
I answer a simple no and the conversation begins, though by the end, my choking breaths become calm; the tear tracks down my cheeks are dried and my nose is crusty from snot.
I hiccup a thank you and I love you then hang up, taking some time to myself before turning on the indicator again and driving off; a new sense of determination filling my mind and body.
Anxiety became a warning signal and a challenge. Anxiety was still an excuse and a wall, though there are days where I wished to hide behind this wall of excuses, and other days, where I was determined to break through and beat it to sh*t.
I needed to find my cure, my calm place. It took me a while but I have it. my calm place is a mindset, a creative one. A place where I can let my thoughts and feelings be free with no strings attached, like a bird in migration.
Anxiety isn’t to be feared, I’ve learnt; it is to be learnt from and something that can enable a person to grow if they let themselves do so.
What are your thoughts on this short story? I felt it very calming to write this, and I’ve learnt that writing is my remedy which is such a lovely thing to have. I am so grateful to have that ability to be able to use creativity as a stress reliever.
Thank You, With Love Bree xx
© Jasper+Spice 2018. All Rights Reserved. Please do not use without my permission. This post was not sponsored, all photos and graphics are of my own creation.