Four years ago my anxiety was at an all time high. I was suffering from irritability and excessive worries. I was also having worrisome palpitations and insomnia that made me feel as if I were dying. During this time I penned a poem to help process my symptoms.
Right on the Brink
My heart beats quickly,
my mind moves slow.
These feelings, lately,
I’ve come to know.
My palms feel sticky,
my hands are shaking.
I’m falling deeper and deeper
in the chaos I’m making.
I’m barely treading water;
I slowly start to sink.
I’m on the edge of tears,
I’m right on the brink.
I start wishing that I
could take a step back.
Out of my mind
and this panic attack.
I was crying myself to sleep at night and filling my head with self-doubt and negative self-talk a plenty. I was falling apart.
However, these were the photos I was posting on social media:
Big, happy smiles were plastered across my face. The front I showed the world covered my hurt and pain. Randy was deployed at the time and I was doing everything in my power to appear strong. I put up a strong front but inside I was falling apart.
Why do we do this to ourselves?
Keep the facade.
Save face.
Build tall walls around ourselves.
Because we are scared. Vulnerability is terrifying.
Processing my anxiety and my instability through a poem gave me clarity. It allowed me to admit to myself how I was feeling at the time.
So here I am- 3 years later doing the same thing. Feeling as if I’m slipping into a funk and processing it through writing.
Except this time I’m not faking it. This time I’m telling a different narrative.
This time I’m telling the truth.
Yesterday I had an appointment with my psychiatrist who manages my medication that helps me survive and thrive despite my depression and anxiety.
It was a good appointment; just a check-in. The selfie above is me waiting in his office. However, I did decide to schedule a counseling appointment. It’s been years since I’ve been in counseling but here I am- needing a refresher.
We don’t have to pretend to be perfect. It’s unhelpful and exhausting.
Be your true self.
Don’t save face.
It isn’t worth it. And it’s lonely.
I challenge you: be vulnerable. It helps keep things in balance; the right balance.
Love this. I try to be honest on social media too. I don’t want to pretend everything is ok when it’s obviously not.
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Not being our true selves is absolutely exhausting.
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Mama’s a hot mess right now too, beautiful! We will be hot messes together! ❤️
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Love you!
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