Letter 06: Dear Anxiety
Original Post Date: July 12, 2023
“Then I thought: Am I choosing you more than you’re choosing me? Was I allowing you to influence my choices and enabling my stagnation? I blamed a lot of situations on you even though I knew I could’ve done the work to be the decision-maker. ”
This is my most vulnerable post yet, but I hope that my transparency can offer you some comfort and motivation
Dear Anxiety,
We’ve known each other for an eternity. I haven’t always known you were there, well, not in the sense that I know you now. Before, I called you “worry”, and I was a worrier. Similar to a lot of the women in my family. Similar to a lot of black women I know. I mean can we help it? We live in a world where we aren’t protected. I spent my younger years believing I could do nothing to abandon you, or even distance myself from you. I’d always just be a worrier.
Fast forward to the year 2019 — the summer we got very acquainted.
I prepared for my senior year but replaced the typical feeling of excitement with doubt. A choked-up throat and chaotic mind became ordinary. I lost all efforts to live in the present, as I second-guessed every belief. It wasn’t till then that I really knew what to call you. Hello, Anxiety. Throughout the remainder of the year, I’d get to know you better. You attacked me for the first time. You regulated my body and exposed me to foreign behaviors. I wondered what was wrong with me. It seemed like everything triggered you, and I didn’t know what to do.
Then the inevitable transpired. It was time to go to therapy.
As a black girl, this wasn’t easy. No one near me did it. I was supposed to forget you or find a way to suppress you. I felt weak and even dramatic because I couldn’t. Nevertheless, I found enough comfort to take us to our first session. But then…I sat in front of a woman years beyond my years, as I rolled my eyes at every suggestion to pray it away. The same thing would happen once more until I finally found the right match. When I arrived at college, you and I headed to the on-campus therapy services and found some relief. Finally, someone who validated my feelings while helping me work towards better choices. Dare I say I enjoyed our sessions with her? Unfortunately, we'd have to leave her cause all good things must come to an end.
It was back to you and me and my wishes that you’d disappear. In my next attempt to perform this magic trick, I turned to self-help books. Another resource that aided in my growth, but after two or three books, I grew tired of the seemingly repetitive suggestions. You submitted to them but still clutched onto me.
As I approached my 20th birthday, my immersion into adulthood sparked my curiosity. I wanted to explore you and why you seemed so attached to me. I’d fill up an entire journal to uncover that my explanation lay in my childhood experiences. You’d penetrate more of my being with each hurt feeling and ignored complaint. Eventually, uncertainty outweighed my confidence. Then I thought: Am I choosing you more than you’re choosing me? Was I allowing you to influence my choices and enabling my stagnation? I blamed a lot of situations on you even though I knew I could’ve done the work to be the decision-maker.
From there I’d have to balance conflicting narratives. My research informed me that part of your occurrence could be due to a chemical imbalance. Those are elements that are harder for me to control. On the other hand, I knew that I could find the willpower to challenge you. I put my faith in myself and practiced telling you “no”. No, anxiety, you can’t steal my opportunity to live a full life.
In the past year, you and I have changed…a lot. You don’t visit me as often anymore. Sometimes I wonder if you’ve moved away. You're still there, of course, but when you do visit, it’s not for weeks or months. Now you’re there for a day or two, maybe even a fleeting moment. I’ve finally come to a point where I can say that I’m closer to peace than you.
Our marriage has been instrumental in my evolution. You really have taught me so much. I learned that I’m stronger than my most painful experiences. I learned that therapy isn’t a dreadful practice. I learned that it may take years to find the weapons to fight my biggest battles but they can be won. Finally, I learned that while some elements of my life are inevitable, they aren’t the author of my story.
Despite all the pain you may have caused, you showed me how much I could grow. For that, Anxiety, I must say thank you.
With Love,
Allie
Song of the Post:
I instantly knew what this week’s SOP would be. Along this journey, there were times when I didn’t want to reach out to anyone for help. Sometimes I didn’t even know how to say what was wrong. In those moments, this song comforted me in ways I couldn’t have imagined. This song showed me just how much music can impact you.
