Funny thing thinking about, writing about anxiety. I see different angles at different times. No surprise, really.
That’s how anxiety works; that’s how our life experience works. Anxiety is part of it. Sure it can be overwhelming, crippling, devastating, even deadly…but then again, it’s just part of life too.
I don’t experience it in a deadly extreme fashion very often. In fact, not ever.
I’ve never considered checking out, or giving up forever, or crawling, or running, away. It’s fucking hard sometimes, but it hasn’t permanently dominated me (yet), in 54 years on this Earth.
Sure, sometimes is it hard. Sometimes it’s really hard. Sometimes it lays on top of me and won’t let me know. Sometimes it creeps up…
Like in the dark, late last night. Like after going to bed, to sleep at reasonable time, anxiety creeped up on me, unsuspecting. A few hours into the night, just after midnight, I leaped out of bed, and almost punched the wall, thinking it was someone standing there in the dark…
Anxiety waiting for me, looking at me, gently tossing and turning, maybe whispering…
I don’t know…but I didn’t want it there in that moment…don’t want it there, in the darkness…
But if it’s there…well fine…
If it’s there, I might roll over, or I might leap up and punch it in the face,
One thing I do know, I’m not giving up, and I’m not checking out.
Let it come. Come along, anxiety…
In the dark, in the light, how you like…I might not be ready, but come along all the same.
