Two Posts in One Week???

Ok, so I posted this on my writing blog because it was more of a writing exercise. But I decided that I wanted to put it here too. Sooooo. . . .here ya go I guess

(From Justanotherwriterwriting.blogspot.com )

Pinterest Prompt

Ok, so the other day I was in a bit of a funk, feeling really down for verious reasons. So I got on Pinterest. And I saw a few pins, and decided I would try something. Write as much as I could using one, and then move to the next one, being they were all somewhat related, and this is what came from it.

It's not necessarily happy, actually it's probably more angry. But here is is. It doesn't have a name. Sorry.

"We have anxiety. This is a very real thing that most people don't understand or even recognize. We have a chemical imbalance in our brains, much like a diabetic has a chemical imbalance in their body. We did not ask for this illness, just as the diabetic did not ask for theirs. Yet somehow society has deemed it acceptable to stigmatize us for ours-calling us crazy-while showing compassion for the other.

Some would say that's it's wrong to compare the struggles we face due to our illness to those of the people battling cancer, or diabetes, or a heart condition. (Which are all, for the most part, invisible illnesses). Because after all, those can be fatal. And I don't disagree. But before saying that anxiety (or depression, bi-polar, OCD, SAD {social anxiety disorder},  GAD {generalized anxiety disorder})isn't fatal. . .try taking a look at the suicide statistics for the past few years.

You feel sympathy-even empathy-for those batteling with very real illness like cancer, diabetes, or fibromyalgia. Illness that we all recognize as real, painful, and life altering or even threatening. But what about those who fight against an illness just as strong in their minds? Who celebrate a victory just by pulling themselves out of bed in the morning. By going to work. By managing to have a social life. If you could only see and understand what really goes on inside our minds-think and feel what we do daily-then maybe you'd understand why we're always so tired and drained. But you can't, because we don't let you. We push people away to protect them from the wilderness that is our minds. And until you crawl around and see the darkest, deepest corners of our minds, you will never understand how it feels to deal with this every. single. day.

Have you even had a panic attack?

Have you ever felt your heart begin to pick up pace, and had that light headed feeling that's about halfway between feeling like you're gonna faint and feeling like you're gonna die?

What about the nausea? Have you ever randomly thrown up-or even passed out-because the terror you're feeling is too overwhelming for your body?

If you haven't experienced it for yourself, you will never understand how it feels to suddenly be struck with this overwhelming sense of panic and fear. What it's like to be so scared of doing something that you literally can't eat or sleep, and you find yourself shaking and crying. And you will never understand how frustrating, discouraging, and depressing it is. How worthless it can make you feel.

And what's worse? The anxiety makes you believe that you are worthless. It leaves no room for questions, and says there is noting you can do about it.

Anxiety is something that is very real. It's not something to be looked down on or stigmatized. The more you tell us things like "there's nothing to worry about", "just calm down" or "stop worrying, it'll be fine", the worse we feel in the moment. Because trust this-we know. We know there is no real reason for us to be feeling that way. We realize that eventually we will be fine. And we hate what we are feeling.

So, in the mean time, hold our hand.

Get us out.

Pull us to the side so we can do what we do best.

Wait it out, and continue on."

Here I'd like to add, sometimes it may not seem like we know what we're doing when we're "waiting it out". Attacks are terrifying and come with a whole slew of physical symptoms, and everyone has their own way of coping and waiting it out. For me, it's pacing. I can't sit still, no matter how completely exhausted I am. After a bad one, I'll sleep for hours.

When my friends are around, I know I freak them out. And I hate it. I do my best to explain that I'll be fine, and explain what I'm feeling, but I can tell that most of them aren't sure what to think or do.

And that's ok. Because even though it's a great comfort to have someone around-talking, distracting, or praying-I have gotten through countless attacks alone with God.