I was always an over thinker.
Maybe always a little restless.
But I didn’t know what anxiety felt like.
Until last year.
It felt like my stomach was constantly crumbling into pieces.
I struggled to breathe, gasping for air all the time.
I felt knots building up in my gut, in my chest, in my brain.
I felt heavy, I felt tight.
The triggers kept coming back
On different days, in different forms.
A sound, a message, a face.
And all of a sudden, it was there.
Like a punch on my face, a kick in my stomach.
But how do I explain what anxiety felt like?
I told my mom who forcefully said,
“You are overthinking”
And then my friend, who told me:
“Just Breathe.”
I saw a doctor
who gave me some pills
And all of a sudden I stopped feeling.
Anything, everything.
The triggers didn’t bother.
But there was no joy.
I needed to feel.
I needed to smile and cry and think.
I pulled myself up.
From the bed, from those thoughts.
Force fed myself even when it felt nauseating.
I pressed my hand, my arms, my stomach, my chest.
Held on to my body.
Soft, then hard, then harder.
Now I knew what anxiety felt like.
And I tried to fight it.
Again and again.
Boxing, writing, talking on the phone.
Reading, breathing, and taking long, long showers.
I tried to fight it
Again and again.
I distanced myself from the triggers
Those sounds
Those people
Those spaces
It got better. It had to.
My heart felt less like jelly.
I could breathe.
Open those knots.
I saw the colours, I saw the light.
Maybe it was over.
Maybe that was it.
Until one day again
All of a sudden
It was back.
But this time I knew what anxiety felt like.
And I knew how to embrace it.
I knew how to fight it.
I wage these wars every time it touches me.
And maybe that’s what I’ll do.
Again and again.
Forever.
My Sentiments, My Expressions 