A is for: A lot of the time, anxiety makes me feel incompetent. Like my inability to do things out of order. Can’t possibly prepare my backpack until I’ve cleaned up my entire room. Have to put all the things in my backpack perfectly in place in my room before I can think about packing it for the day. Even if this is less efficient, has to be done. No amount of mentally screaming at the thoughts to just.go.away helps. Sometimes it does. Sometimes if I scream loud enough then I don’t have the space in my mind for the anxiety to come back. No space for the nasty thoughts, just the repetition of just.go.away.just.go.away.just.go.away.just.go.away.just.go.away.just.go.away to keep me going.
W is for: Worthlessness. When I can’t make the thoughts go away, no matter how loud I scream… despite how far up the volume of my iphone is… then I sit and feel the sawing ants swarming around the tightrope beneath me. I sit and feel the quicksand rise higher around my body. Shoulders, collarbone, neck, neck, neck, chin, mouth. I sit and feel myself sink and fall. I am a worthless piece of
B is for: But sometimes, the battles I go through with my mind help, too. Everything that my anxiety doesn’t target just seems so easy, so simple, so un-stressful. Missing appointments, missing meals, spills, fights, being on time. It just doesn’t compare.
S is for: Sometimes, anxiety helps me. Sometimes not.
D is for: Don’t bother. I am fully in control of it. Of me. That’s the good side of anxiety, really. I am in control of everything, every single thing around me is mine. Mine to traumatize myself over, mine to sort, mine to tackle, mine to understand, mine to remember, mine to know, mine to clasp, mine to never ever ever forget.
I is for: I’m okay. I’m going to be okay. I was okay yesterday. I will be okay tomorrow. I’m okay. And that’s okay.
A is for: Anxiety is mine.