I think life would actually be quite satisfactory if I were, well, healthy and unimpaired. But life's a bitch and that's not the case. So whilst I am waiting patiently everyday in desperation and lacking sanguine for the stem-cell therapy that still doesn't exist, anxiety also decided to pay a visit this year and accumulate to my many other inconveniences.
As someone who generally grins and bears it and doesn't like talking about their deepest feelings and emotions, for once, I want to talk about it.
Anxiety is like an unexplainable weight on your shoulders and heart, suffocating your respiration and tormenting your mind. Like a typical anxiety prey, hot flashes, trembling, sleepless nights, sudden tears, heavy breathing and heart attack-like palpitations are the bane of my life. Being alone is the worst and I have not yet mastered the art of dealing with a panic attack and deciding whether I should suppress the pent-up feelings or let it all out. But so far, luckily, I've conquered public situations in remaining composed.
Talking about it to friends who listen actually makes me feel better, like I am alleviating the burden by sharing it. Like by saying it out loud, I am diluting the feeling of suffering alone. Sometimes I feel like I can't talk about the anxiety because not everyone around you will understand why you have a fear of leaving the house on your own or why you feel anxious when people look at you in public or how you're fine one moment, and then you feel like you're having a heart attack the next. ('Get a grip' springs to mind, no?) I'm not crazy though, I swear.
Well, if there's one thing I've learnt is that life goes on. And Instagram is not the true portrayal of someone's life. I'm not ok, but I guess that's ok. Putting on a front is what I do best. And after everything, I've still made it out alive. Appreciate good health, guys - some of us are less fortunate.
"And even if somebody else has it much worse, that doesn't really change the fact that you have what you have" - Stephen Chbosky.
