Catching My Breath

Catching My Breath
 
I have anxiety; I am not defined by anxiety.
I am not broken; I am catching my breath.
 
Anxiety is not one size fits all.
Anxiety is not consistent.
Anxiety tells a unique story for each person who is walking in its steps.
The story is theirs alone; your only job is to listen.
 
A person with anxiety will wake on most days with the weight of the world resting on their chest. They will spend every waking moment trying to take back their life from this undefinable heaviness that steals their breath; a breath that rarely comforts.

A person with anxiety will fight every morning past wanting to stay in the safety of their bed, rather than face the uncertainty of the day before them.

A person with anxiety plays a constant reel in their head with every scenario of how they can escape interacting with others; a battle that is never won having to be in the world.

A person with anxiety will turn down invitation after invitation so often that soon they are few and far between.

A person with anxiety will make themselves believe that the world does not need them to exist within it; they do not know their worth.
 
Anxiety is isolating.
 
Some days, my breath does not come.
Some days, I do not get out of bed.
Some days, I do not leave the house.
Some days, I cannot see my worth.
Some days, it is bigger than I can hold.
 
Anxiety is an intimate struggle, a personal fight.
Anxiety shows itself through unexplained emotions.
Anxiety is immeasurable stress that leads to panic.
Anxiety can often be misplaced anger and short-tempered outbursts.
Anxiety is the despair and silence that falls upon a person mirroring depression.
Anxiety is deafening amidst a constant battle within.
 
I struggle with anxiety; I am not defined by anxiety.
I am not broken; I am catching my breath.
 
It is often said to, ‘just breathe.’
A person with anxiety knows how to breathe.
A person with anxiety may be battling a chemical imbalance.
A person with anxiety may be recovering from a trauma.
A person with anxiety likely has too many stories silenced.
 
I live in the world with my anxiety.
I live in the world with my heaviness.
I live in the world with my stories.
I live in the world with my voice.
I live in the world just trying to hold myself up.
 
I struggle with anxiety; I am not defined by anxiety.
I am not broken; I am catching my breath.
 
To the loved one who is walking with someone who is struggling with anxiety; it is not about you.
They are just trying to catch their breath most days.

To the friend who is taking it personally that the one who is struggling with anxiety will not return your texts or invitations; it is not about you.

They can’t stop their mind long enough to form a thought; they can’t see their value as to why you are still here.

To the stranger who may see the person with anxiety in the world looking desolate and alone; a smile through your eyes will go further than you could possibly imagine.
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Do not look through them; see them.
 
They struggle with anxiety; they are not defined by anxiety.
They are not broken; they are trying to catch their breath.
 
I struggle with anxiety; I am not defined by anxiety.
I am not broken; I am catching my breath.
I live in the world.
Every day I am just trying to begin again.