Anxiety

“If I didn’t find it, I might have broken apart.” That’s what I said to my girlfriend after I couldn’t see the self help book I was looking for. It sounds very extreme but I’ll give you context.

I think it’s really hard to actually feel how you feel, let alone express it. Often we just react to things, and minutes, hours or even days later we might come to understand why. I never thought I was that person, I thought I could be so aware of my problems that I could fix them quickly and then feel better, because what else was there to do?  

I knew I’d been struggling; things weren’t as easy to deal with as they use to be and I could feel the presence of worry and anxiety in my body much more. So, I consciously decided a self-help book might be the right way to go and that I had a problem that needed fixing. I had one in mind and I was going to the bookshop with my Girlfriend to find it. My conscious mind wasn’t quite aware how badly I needed help until the moment I couldn’t find the book.

The Self-help section was easy to find and my girlfriend had looked up the author’s name before we came in. The Author’s Surname started with ‘S’. I started scanning. A through H, H through to Q, Q to S, S to…Nope. Because then I was on T and I hadn’t found it and suddenly there was the presence of something in my chest. Another look around, I thought. Nothing again. And the feeling in my chest turned to a heavy weight. It demanded to be felt but I was too good at pretending everything was fine. One more time for luck, then the breath that use to be so easily captured only seemed to go as far as the back of my mouth and my lungs were left empty.   

“Oh, well” Came out of my mouth, even though I’d felt I’d missed out on the last lifeline that would drag me out of the water. I turned around to leave and saw the book on the table of most popular books. I picked it up and that’s when I realised I was in trouble, because the amount of relief I felt when the book was in my hands was like I’d just taken a breath after 3 minutes underwater. Suddenly I could breathe again and the dull throb throughout my gut had subsided.

I could have brushed it off but I felt if I didn’t say something that eventually I’d be as lost as I was a few minutes ago and maybe, by acknowledging this sensation, I wouldn’t have to be afraid of it. Because I was afraid of it, I was scared and confused that one part of me could be screaming for help but another part of me could slam the door on it.

Better to speak than to let it linger.

“Just now, when we couldn’t find the book, I started to panic. I felt a big weight in my chest and got scared and felt like If I didn’t find, I would have broken apart.”