The Inner Conflict of Anxiety

I find myself at war with…well, myself, on a daily basis. The anxiety has metastasized to a point where I find it hard to breathe all of the time.
My kid is at school. Yay. I get a break.
My kid is at school.I sit watching the phone waiting for a call to announce her latest ailment de jour.

I wait for the mail to come with bated breath. The mail comes and I am relieved or freaked out more.(Yeah, I got tired of waiting for snail mail and looked at my power bill on line, YIKES!!!!, kinda glad I didn’t open an envelope like that or I’d be avoiding my mailbox for weeks to come to avoid another mail induced panic attack.)

The trash truck is outside. Did I remember to put out trash? Yes. Oh, wait, better check. So I check. And I check again.

Are the cats fed? Better make sure because my focus and memory are so impaired I may have fed them ten hours ago and the dishes are empty.

Were my kid’s shoes on the right feet this morning? OMG, I think I forgot to feed her breakfast. No, wait, I told her to have a pop tart. No, wait, pancakes, I fed her pancakes. Was that today? OMG, what if it wasn’t today and i sent her to school hungry and she tells them and I am on charges for being a neglectful mother?

Oh no, the cable guys are about, did my internet payment not go through and they’re cutting off my service? No, I paid that, I pay it like clockwork on the first of the month when my money comes. But what if the office people messed up or their computer credited the wrong account?

Round and round it goes, day after bloody day.
This is a sucky way to live.
Your mood lifts, you feel more stable…
But your anxiety is such that because you heard a fire truck drive by the night before, you’re terrified to leave the house lest it catch on fire and you be gone…

Anxiety is like a cancer. Even treated, it spreads.
And I am sick of it being made to be some behavioral issue.
I don’t like living this way. My own brain is my worst enemy but I can’t walk away and shun or avoid it.
So I am trapped, constantly at war, my mind a battlefield littered with the corpses of my dreams of a normal life where my brain works properly.

How I wish my mind and the anxiety receptors would call a cease fire.

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