Suckiness of Anxiety

That’s how I feel at the moment. Perhaps it is an addiction after all? I miss how I FELT during those months; free, free and free. Did I mention “free”?

Tomorrow begins the start of something new. Couples counseling, nothing new, yet this time, there’s a freshness to it. Though I feel anything but fresh at the moment. More like empty. a hollow shell today, semi-emotional – less, I suppose. That’s not entirely true. Anxiety lurks. Fucking anxiety. Even with Zoloft. Maybe I need more. Or maybe I need less anxiety. I still feel like I want to BREAK out….of SOMETHING. What, my marriage? My H, so kind of late, more understanding these days, more willing to put up with my shit. That’s saying something. Unfortunately this is NOT about him. This is all my baby. All mine.

One can’t ignore anxiety. Not really. Just try. Oh, sure, you can hide from it for a while; have a few drinks, smoke a little something, fall in love with another who shares the same anxiety (gee, THAT’S healthy) or better yet, have an affair. Not better. EVER. Each, an escape from whatever ails us, we wish to feel. And that’s the thing: I want, LONG to feel, no longer wish to filter anything. But the anxiety, I just can’t handle it. I hate it. Even sadness is better than this. Because with sadness, I can breathe. I remember to breathe. Anxiety strips me from breathing if  allow it to.

So what to do about it? Take each day at a time. Take each moment at a time. Cry. Scream. Hug someone. Write. Write some more. Music. Listen. Zoloft. More Zoloft. Less Zoloft. Drive. Surf. Dance. Movie. And breathe. Don’t forget to breathe. Seriously.

Hang in there. Right there with ya.

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About Carin

Writing is for me, though sharing with others, is a gift.

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