A Day with Anxiety
6:15 a.m. Alarm goes off. God, my chest hurts. I really can’t breathe. Can I handle going to work today? Can I handle being around people? Just the thought makes me wanna cry. I can’t keep missing work. Maybe just a few more minutes lying here. I can’t get up.
7:00 a.m. I really need to get out of bed. I’m going to be late. Get out of bed. Just one step at a time. Take a quick shower. Throw on some makeup to cover the dark circles (thanks, insomnia). Leave wet hair to air dry. Styling my hair will be too much. I look like a drowned rat. I can’t breathe.
7:45 a.m. Take a deep breath. Pick up my purse and head out the door. Hop in my car. Fuck, I need to get gas. I really don’t have time. I don’t want to go. But I have to. Just drive. Shuffle Spotify songs. Find something upbeat. Just drive. I can make it.
8:05 a.m. Walk into work and sit down at my desk. Boot up computer and make to-do list. Okay, my list seems manageable. Maybe today will be okay. It’s Monday, I really need to start my week on a good note. I can do this.
8:30 a.m. Paste on a smile and exchange weekend stories with my surrounding coworkers. It’s hard to pretend like I’m okay when all I want to do is to curl up in a ball. I want to scream. I can’t breathe.
9:15 a.m. My chest is so tight. My hands are shaking. Go to the bathroom and sit in a stall. I can’t breathe. Tears start flowing uncontrollably. I gotta be quiet. I can’t make a scene. I can’t have anyone asking what’s wrong because I don’t have a good answer. “Oh you know sometimes my brain just thinks I’m in danger and tells my body to just flip the fuck out.” Yeah, I can’t say that. Fix makeup and go back to my desk. I can’t stop shaking.
11:30 a.m. The shaking hasn’t stopped. I lay my head in my hands and take some deep breaths. I’m dizzy. Why is this still happening? Why can’t I just fucking breathe? Are people watching me? I’m going to get fired, I just know it. This is too disruptive. They probably think I’m mentally unstable. I can’t breathe.
12:30 p.m. I need to eat, but I feel so nauseated. Just eat something. Take a break. Check Facebook and Instagram. My friends all look so happy. Am I a good enough friend to them? Should I text them and make sure I didn’t do something wrong? I need to be better. Fucking A, more politics. Seems like the apocalypse. I hope my family is okay. I don’t see them enough. I love where I live, but I should be closer to my family. Should I buy a flight home? I feel like such a terrible daughter. My heart hurts. I can’t think.
1:45 p.m. I can’t breathe. Go to nearest window to get some sunlight and look outside. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. Take a deep breath. God, this city is beautiful. I would give anything to be in the mountains right now. Fresh air. Isolation. Nothing but nature and me. Boss comes over. I put my smile back on. I’m sure he can tell. We happily chat about our weekends. My spirits are lifted a little. Okay, so maybe I just need to talk to people. It’s just so hard. I can fight this.
2:00 p.m. I sit back down at my desk. The shaking has subsided. Okay, this is good. I put in my headphones and play the Peaceful Piano playlist on Spotify. The tension in my chest releases more and more with every song. Oh, the power of music. It never ceases to amaze me. I am productive and I am proud. I can do this.
3:30 p.m. I watch the CEO pace throughout the office. My headphones are out. I should really put them back in. My thoughts start to spiral. My chest tightens. Oh man, I’m gonna get fired. All I do is social media marketing… how worthless am I? I’m 100% replaceable. I have no value. How am I going to pay my bills? I have too much debt to not have a job even for a week. I keep my head down and click back and forth through my browser tabs. I can’t focus.
4:30 p.m. I can go home now. Shut down my computer and say bye to my colleagues. God, I’m so exhausted. I didn’t even do anything. How lazy am I? Get in my car. Damn, this skirt got snug. When did I gain weight? I really need to eat better. Or exercise. I’m so out of shape. Drive home. I can’t breathe.
4:50 p.m. Walk into my apartment. Say hi to my cat. She brushes against my legs. She senses I’m not all there. It’s Monday, I really need to clean my apartment. I’m just so tired though. Maybe I’ll take a few minutes just to sit down and decompress. Automatically pick up my phone and switch between work and personal social media. Why can’t I just do nothing? Why does that make me so uncomfortable? I really should clean. I can’t move.
5:30 p.m. Still lying down. God, this sucks. Just get the fuck up already. Pull out the vacuum and pop my headphones back in. Sing loudly above the noise. Dance around. This is helping. I can move.
7:30 p.m. Eat some dinner. I really gotta try and eat better. Pull up “Friends” on Netflix. I watch this show too much. But it’s cathartic. I laugh. I can breathe.
9:30 p.m. Turn off Netflix. Wash my face. Brush my teeth. Look at my reflection. God, I look like shit. This disorder really takes its toll on me. I’m almost 29 but feel like I should be having a midlife crisis. I need to get better. Tomorrow I will do better. I can learn from this.
10:00 p.m. Crawl into bed. This day feels like it has lasted a year. I’m really glad it’s over. I needed this. Just to lie in the dark. I listen to the cars driving past my window. People are still up and going. I’m happy I’m not one of them. Hopefully I get some sleep tonight. I say a little prayer asking for strength. Tomorrow is a new day. It could be better. It will be better. I can do this.