On Being Anxious

There aren’t many feelings I can put into words, and being anxious is probably one of them. I’ve gotten good at suppressing it in the past, with only one or two instances of letting the panic truly get to me and both were after alcohol.

The most recent panic attack really got me, it was after a leaving party with friends from work. It was Japanese karaoke, with a touch screen bar, need I say more about the level of alcohol consumed? I’m not entirely sure how I made it home. But the minute I did I started to vomit everything up. Which, admittedly made me feel some bit better. But it didn’t stop the anxious feeling in my stomach.

I managed to crawl into bed and honestly, it was like the weight of the world had come crashing down onto my chest. There was so much pressure, I can’t even tell you what I was panicking over, all I knew was that I couldn’t breath. I was gasping for air, as my partner tried to soothe me but nothing worked. It felt like in that moment I was about to be crushed.

Obviously I wasn’t crushed, and everything was okay. But it’s a feeling I never want to experience ever again.

So, I’ve learned to have little panic’s over nothing much in particular, which isn’t exactly healthy but it’s the best I can do, to overcome the constant state of anxiousness I live in. It seems more practical to worry about what time I need to leave to get the train to work. & be early, never on time, always early. That’s more practical to me, than letting the crippling fear of having an attack about nothing, where someone will see me, being weak when I’m not.



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