Dear Anxiety

Written by: Charlie Rowe

Dear Anxiety,

I write this as if you were someone I could send this to. As if you had a permanent address I could write out on an envelope and ship off my thoughts to. I guess that’s because, in some ways to me, you are. I no longer see you as a chemical imbalance, instead you manifest into a physical being that has taken permanent residence inside my head. Unfortunately for me, I can’t seem to evict you no matter how hard I try.

I appreciate you some days. You help me think up every single scenario of danger I could be in at any moment. Sometimes, it saves me from making the wrong move or saying the wrong thing. I find comfort in ideas like the burnt toast theory in those instances. Knowing you have my back and making me hyper aware of my surroundings is nice. It’s because of you I’m more attentive to any possible danger around.

But on the other hand, you are more a detriment in my thought pattern. You make me so worried about every outcome in a social outing, I’d rather just not go. You hold my hand as you walk me through every detail of every interaction I have, to the point where you pick up on faces my friends made or things they say that convince me everyone hates me. Of course I listen to you, so I get scared to talk to them. I’m extremely fortunate and thankful to have patient and loving friends who are so kind and gentle with me when you’re affecting me the most.

You also love to remind me that you think I’m not doing enough, whether it’s within my academics or at work. You are always right by my side whispering to me that there’s someone doing better or scrutinizing me, saying suuuuure my work is fine, but it’s not the best.

Anxiety, you managed to even deter my creative spirit. Since I was little, my passion was music. I’ve been songwriting since I was 5 years old, building worlds only I can sing to life. Music is my passion and first true love, but over the last couple of years every time I go to pick up a pen and write a song, you’re standing behind me telling me that I will never be like my greatest musical influences, that I’m not as creative as I once was, and I’ll never compare to my talented colleagues. I constantly carry the weight of not feeling good enough around, like an ankle weight you chained to me. I experience burn out trying to prove my worth, all because of you.

And let’s not get started on the ways in which you’ve physically impacted me. My heart flutters, and everytime we feel it you remind me that it could mean I’m dying. If I have a tightness in my chest, you make me believe that it could be my final breath. Whenever I’m feeling any inkling of abnormality, almost always caused by the feelings you give me, you’ve drilled it into me that it is something beyond repairable. You’ve caused me so much worry in my life that it has manifested into physical reactions.

It’s funny because I can’t remember a time where you weren’t by my side. I turn 27 next week and you’d think that for as long as you’ve been in my life, I’d know how to handle you. It seems that as I’ve grown, so have you. I thought facing my worst fears would calm me down, it’s like how could I possibly get anxious after experiencing and living through the things I thought would kill me? I’m sure you wondered that too, and got so happy you were still here that you decided to set my mind ablaze. They say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, but I feel for us it’s only made me more afraid.

I don’t want to sound ungrateful, because I know you can’t help the way you are, it’s the same reason I can’t help the way I am. I just yearn for a time when we interact that doesn’t affect me so heavily. I wish you could whisper something to me, and instead of turning it into screams in an empty hallway, I just simply toss the thought into a garbage can. Instead it simmers on low heat that keeps getting cranked up until an explosion occurs. You’re like a science experiment with no instructions, just wishful thinking that there won’t be some biohazard brewing.

All this to say, our relationship is complicated. I paint the world in color, but you come in and paint black and white over it. I wish you weren’t a photobomber in the pictures of my life; sometimes it may be hard to find you, sometimes it’s easy, but either way you’re always an unavoidable dot on my developed film. But I think it’s finally come to a point where you aren’t welcome anymore.

Writing this out as if you’re a real person makes me realize you are more in control of my thoughts than I am. If you were real, you’d be the worst friend, partner, or family member I’d ever come across, and I’d never want you in my life. Everyday you affect me at different levels, but you’re always there no matter what. You may be living rent free in my mind right now but soon I know I will find your set of keys and I will destroy them, then I’ll change the locks when you’re not looking. Maybe every now and then when I hear you knocking on my door, I’ll let you back in, but never permanently and always briefly.

–

Recently I’ve been experiencing the worst anxiety of my life, and I thought for this blog it would be a fun little exercise to pen a letter to it like it was a person I was trying to air out my feelings to. In writing it, I truly felt a lightness in my bones that I haven’t felt in a while. Imagining anxiety as a person makes it feel less like I’m the “problem” and more like there is something else controlling how I think and do things. It’s not me that needs fixing, it’s my brain.

I hope you, whoever is reading this, try this out for any heavy feelings/emotions/scenarios you’re living inside of, as it really puts things into perspective. I’ve been working on my anxiety for years with my therapist, and am finally getting to a point where outside of my sessions I’m challenging my anxious thoughts by reframing them. It’s a slowwwwwwwww process, but this certainly helped. Always remember, you are never alone. Anxiety affects so many people within our world, and there are just as many beautiful humans that just want you to be the best version of you, and will always support any journey to get there.

Be Well,

Charlie Rowe