An Open Letter to My Anxiety

Without invitation, you crept right in, with your malicious grin and a toxic hue in your eyes.  I felt your sting as you wriggled through my veins, my blood, my pounding heart, my mind.  Paralyzed by the hasty disturbance, I allowed you to settle in.  I knew what I was in for.  I knew exactly what was coming.  The heat in my face, simmered up through my ears, across the bridge of my nose, and burned my eyes.  An electrical current ran across my chest and down the center of my core.  My vision quaked and narrowed, all while I made every attempt to just breathe you out and take in a deep clear breath.  You made it impossible with your convincing grip on my thoughts, telling me it was okay to crumble, because everything was falling apart.  I was falling apart.  You were pulling me apart.  Layer by layer, you peeled away my confidence and gratitude.  Revealing a bitter center.  Also full of worry, resistance, fear...  

Why do you come?  Is it your intention to confuse and discourage and disrupt any shred of peace in my life?  It seems no matter how hard I contest, you cripple me.  Right in front of my children, my husband, my colleagues.  Or on a quiet drive alone, risking not only my sanity, but also my safety, as I grip the steering wheel with clammy hands and propel forward with a throbbing chest.  

What is your purpose?  Is there any good in what you serve?  Perhaps it is to bring to light the deeply buried woes that need to be acknowledged and freed?  

I will acknowledge you, but please know that I will not let you stay for long.  My family needs me, and that requires the best of me.  You are not my best self.  You are a faulty blur that comes and goes, but will never inhabit this body for long.  When you visit, I will greet you.  When you speak, I will listen.  Although, my response will be different, because I do believe we are not aligned.  Do not expect to win the argument every time.     

Some days I realize where you fit in.  You push me to think harder, breathe more, force rest, and shift my energy.  When you finally over stay your welcome and leave, I realize my new season.  As much as I loathe your visits, I am motivated when you leave.