Anxiety decided to come for a visit after a pretty long absence. I knew it would be back, I just didn’t know when. Part of me hoped it would be gone for good. But I knew better.

I tried to tell it this wasn’t a good time for a visit. I have things to do and I do a lot better without this visitor around.

Anxiety is a lot like a child; it doesn’t listen.

It wants me to listen to whatever bullshit it’s trying to sling though. I’m just sitting here, minding my own business, and then suddenly it’s on top of my chest, making it hard for me to breath.

Image by Stefan Keller from Pixabay

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Oh nothing, just making sure you knew I was still here to fuck shit up.” it says to me.

“I know. But everything is fine. Everyone is fine. There’s nothing to freak out about.”

“Yeah but you should anyway because something MIGHT happen!”

“But what? What might happen?”

“I don’t know. SOMETHING.”

“But there is literally nothing wrong right now.”

“Well, just keep in mind you should be freaking out right now.”

Image by enriquelopezgarre from Pixabay

OK then anxiety, you don’t want to tell me? Kinda rude but OK. You were always kind of a dick to me, why should I be surprised?