Anxiety. I haven’t seen you or felt your un-reasonable, relentless presence for a while. And oddly today, I knew you were coming.
And there I was, at the back end of a message to a friend, bragging about how well I’ve been.
But there it was, as sudden as the messages ended, it was there.
There it was.
I stood at the kitchen counter, cutting aggressively into the pumpkin I was preparing for our roast vegetable dinner. Something that felt would be easy earlier in the day; took all I had left and gave me blistered hands.
There it was; as furiously threw dishes into the sink when I was done.
There it was; when my husband left for the school pick up and I searched the medicine basket for anything that I thought could stop the overwhelming rush of hurt. I am left feeling nothing but failure and disappointment when all I find is herbal grade cough syrup. I find nothing because we are not allowed proper medications in the house anymore. My temptation to fumble with too many old anti-depressant tablets is strong. I am overwhelmed with shame for even considering it.
There it was; when my children walked in, throwing their bags where ever they pleased while I feel the familiar feeling of unreasonable rage engulfing me, I envision losing my shit and screaming “clean up your fucking shit”. But I stay silent because I know if I say a word, it will all fall out. I didn’t want to hurt anyone but me.
There it was; when my husband came up behind me to hug me, there it was as the tears filled my eyes, and I stay standing cutting potato’s pretending there are no tears threatening me. I stay silent because I don’t want to admit defeat to something I have kept at bay for months. Admitting its here means I can’t go back.
There it was; when the front door slams and scares me too much, I stand there frozen, Tupperware in hand, watching nothing; but waiting for the flight or fight response to calm inside me.
There it was; as I changed my child’s piss stained sheets yet again, furiously scrubbing the scent from the mattress. I am robotic, I feel the panic setting in my mind, a flurry of racing thoughts- where did this come from, how do I get it to stop, is this back for good now, I just want to hide.
There it was; as I threw my children’s lunches together; promptly stamping out any words from the smallest of the three when she wanted to help “I just need you the fuck out of here’ I screamed inside. But I stayed silent because nothing good would come out.
There it was; every time the washing machine banged furiously on the spin cycle, spurring the rage to fill me each time it span.
There it was; as I stood at the sink washing the dishes, a cup slips from my hand and I slam my palm into the sink, in frustration. Because nothing feels right, of course nothing is going right.
There it was; when I realised how much day there is left before I can rest my head, and pretend, I am okay.
There it was; as I’m holding a butter knife in my hands contemplating how much I ‘d have to press to stop this feeling. To stop this intense pouring of feelings I am now stuck with in my body. But I don’t.
There it was; when I sneak into my bed for a mere 5 minutes to calm, watching my fit-bit to calm my racing heart… 120…119..100… 98… before the microwave beeps and demands my attention. 98..100..119..120…
There it is. And I realise. I shouldn’t have bragged.
There you are anxiety. Where have you been old friend. It’s been a while.