As of late, I have seriously contemplated the probability of anxiety and just how many of us experience it. I figure more people than ever are affected by this type of mental illness, arguably as a result of the pandemic, and I truly wonder sometimes if more of us suffer from anxiety than not, which is a rather disturbing realization.
I could be completely wrong, and I hope I am. But, mental illness has been on the rise ever since COVID made its presence known in our lives, and I truly think there are a lot of us walking around with undiagnosed mental illness in a variety of forms.
I have anxiety, and I’m pretty open about it. I have discussed it here on my blog numerous times, and I am happy to do so – I figure someone out there could possibly take comfort in reading about my own experiences dealing with my anxiety, and because mental illness is still a stigmatized topic (although we have come a long way), I think having judgment-free conversations about it can help to enable people to feel more at ease discussing it themselves and allowing themselves to be vulnerable.
My anxiety hasn’t been terribly kind to me lately, and I have been struggling more than I typically do. When you’ve been a victim of anxiety for an extended duration of time (in my own case, over ten years), flare-ups can be incredibly detrimental; you take pride in any and all small feats you’ve accomplished in regard to controlling and handling anxiety, so when you face a temporary setback, it can feel as though any and all progress you’ve made has been yeeted out a window. As difficult as it can be to try and think logically when your anxiety is raging harder than a seltzer can at a music festival, it really is crucial to refrain from giving in and believing that your anxiety has won. Hard days are inevitable, but they aren’t permanent.
Your anxiety does not define you. Remember that.
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