“How much is one person allowed to fall apart?” I find myself asking this question from the moment I wake up right until the very final breath of consciousness before the lights go out. I, like many others, live with generalized anxiety as well as bipolar disorder. Hot, right? Since learning this back in 2016 I’ve used vulnerability as a defence mechanism in order to not feel judged or criticized. So yes, I’m fully aware that my actions and behaviours are crippling and I’m openly accepting this in order to break the stigma that those who suffer from these disorders don’t have their shit together. But do not be fooled because I am constantly in the midsts of losing my shit!!! (and I’m pretty sure that’s allowed).
I want to let readers know that this isn’t some success story entitled, “I’ve Conquered My Anxiety and You Can Too!” No. I am fucking struggling. Everyday. I breath heavy, get up, push on, bare down and refuse to cry and instead decide to be jaded about what’s really going on in my life in regards to school, my job or my relationships. You’ll catch me saying things like, “I’m fine! We’re fine!” and then continue to watch 24 more episodes of 30 Rock in the hopes that it can help ease my mind from all realities if only for a little while. Because honestly the weight of it all is hurting my chest and my heart and I can’t stop feeling so much that my first instinct is to just check out.
So I’ll let you in on a little secret; most days, I’m petrified. But aren’t we all? I’m so terrified of disappointing people, or not living up to the expectations of others as well as the expectations I set of myself that I just freeze in an attempt to stop time. My theory is that if I don’t make any moves life just refuses to go on without me. I’m the Juliette to life’s Romeo. I wake up sweating and panicking like a fugitive on the run. But turns out I’m just running from myself and can never seem to catch a goddamn break! I get that these things may all just be in my head but that’s where my thoughts all live and they are scared and freaking the fuck out.
I hope others can feel this, relate to this, appreciate it and will hold my hand while I try to celebrate the most sensitive parts of myself. Cause I’m fucking scared of what you all think. But these are the truest words I’ve ever shared about my anxiety (and I hope to share more). These are the actions I find most despicable about myself. This is my experience of being alive. And I kind of hope that there are shitloads of people out there who are scared of life and death and disappointing their parents, or not living up to expectations, or eating so much that you don’t recognize the person in the mirror, or never falling in love again. Reveal yourself! You’re not alone! I am here! Shouting into oblivion! I am waiting! You are welcome! I have chicken nuggets! Tofu options available for vegans!
Written by: Ruth Remudaro