When the Morning Became Quiet Again
People think anxiety always looks like panic attacks.
Mine didn't.
Mine looked like replying to emails while my chest felt too tight to breathe.
Mine looked like smiling through meetings after sleeping only three hours.
Mine looked like laughing with people while quietly convincing myself that something terrible was about to happen.
For years, I became very good at hiding it.
I told myself everyone else had bigger problems.
Why would anyone want to hear about an invisible battle? LOL
So I learned to carry it alone.
Life kept moving anyway.
There were health scares.
Relationships that didn't work out.
Dreams that didn't happen the way I imagined.
Financial worries that followed me into bed every night.
Work became heavier.
Responsibilities multiplied.
The list of things to think about never seemed to end.
Then I moved to Bali.
People imagine Bali as a place where problems disappear.
Beautiful beaches.
Warm sunsets.
Slow mornings.
Peace.
In many ways, they're right.
Bali gave me beautiful memories.
It gave me incredible people.
But anxiety crossed the ocean with me.
A year passed. Live in this island with Soba and Mongi is awesome! Beaches, waterfalls, coconuts.
Early in 2026, something changed.
There wasn't a tragedy.
There wasn't bad news.
I simply woke up afraid.
Morning after morning.
Night after night.
Sleep became difficult.
My body was exhausted, but my mind refused to rest.
I would stare at the ceiling for hours while my thoughts ran in circles.
What if tomorrow goes wrong?
What if I lose everything?
What if I never feel normal again?
What if I don't get better?
The questions never stopped.
Eventually, I stopped doing the things that once made me feel alive.
Books gathered dust.
My notebook stayed empty.
Courses I had been excited to take forgotten.
I wasn't really living anymore.
I was surviving.
Coffee became another habit I never questioned.
Four cups.
Sometimes five.
Coffee while working.
Coffee while thinking.
Coffee because I was tired.
Coffee because I couldn't focus.
Coffee because why not?
Now I make only one cup.
Just one.
Every morning before work truly begins, I take that cup outside the office and sit beneath the morning sun.
For thirty minutes, I do almost nothing.
Sometimes I watch people pass by.
Sometimes I look at the trees moving with the wind.
Sometimes I watch my team getting ready for a long work day.
Sometimes I simply let the warmth reach my face.
I try not to look at my phone.
I remind myself that not every minute has to be productive.
Sometimes existing is enough.
Somewhere along the way, I also started watering the plants around the office.
It's such a small thing.
Fill the watering can.
Pour.
Watch the dry soil slowly drink.
Move to the next pot.
Repeat.
Nobody would think watering plants could quiet an anxious mind.
But somehow...
It does hehe.
When my thoughts become too loud, my hands need something to do.
So I carry little fidget toys.
A tiny keyboard.
A spinner.
Simple things that fit inside my pocket.
People might think they're toys for children.
To me, they're anchors.
Especially over the last month.
Work has been stressful.
Meeting after meeting.
Hours of online calls.
Reports.
Planning.
Simulations.
Problems that seemed to create even more problems.
Some days I didn't realize I had been holding my breath until my chest started hurting.
My fingers never stopped moving.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Without noticing, I would spend hours pressing the tiny keyboard while trying to keep up with everything happening around me.
By evening, my fingertips hurt.
Not from typing.
From trying to calm a nervous system that refused to slow down.
I would go home emotionally exhausted.
The kind of tired that sleep doesn't always fix.