"Here I am," I repeat in my head. I'm scared shitless, but I'm here.
I'm in a place of vulnerability because what I'm about to share with you (and even to say it aloud) scares the bejesus out of me. I'm scared of being as alone as I actually feel. But I'm not alone. Not even slightly. I need this idea of out my head. I'm here and I am not alone.
For some reason, my anxiety was overwhelming every aspect of who I am today. Nothing in particular triggered this anxiety. Not a single thing. It just came pouring down on me without any forewarning. Maybe it's the weather (flood watch of emotions apparently) or maybe it's that I listened to a tiny piece of doubt in my mind in the early morning.
So when the worries came flooding, I was oddly reminded of the blog post I wrote last July about my anxiety. I dug it up and reread. Right from the start, I found myself breathing a sigh of relief as I reminded myself: It'll pass. How had I forgotten that tactic of mine? How had I forgotten that the anxiety will go away? Why did I feel like I was drowning in it now?
As I continued reading this post from the past, I noticed something I once told myself: "It's okay to talk about my anxiety." Suddenly, I felt proud of myself because when my anxiety started to really overwhelm me this morning, I texted three of my best friends. They tried to calm me, talked me through it, brought a few tears to my eyes, and even offered to share some Sour Patch Kids. It's these little things that help me refocus. They reminded me that I'm enough; I'm worthy; I am okay.
Don't listen to it. Don't listen to all the bad things flooding your mind and making you worry. Don't believe any of the shit that tells you you're not worthy of being loved. I remind myself of these things. The anxiety is still there, so I repeat it and go through them again. And I'll do it again. Again until I accept the truths: I am enough. I am worthy. I am loved.
And then there it is, the punch that gets thrown right into my gut at the end of my former post.
Loud and clear and in black and white for me to read: Here I am. Vulnerable, but alive. It's a small step, but I've conquered a lot of anxiety to get here.
There it is again. I feel a small bit of pride. I'm growing, changing, evolving. I'm becoming better. I've conquered trials and tribulations before, and I'll do again. It's a slow process, and one filled with vulnerability, but there I am. Here I come.
"I have no special talent.