Anxiety. It’s a monster, wringing its hands and laughing at you because you’re trapped, believing everything it tells you.
Every lie that comes from its crooked, sinister lips comes out sounding like the absolute truth. So much that you believe it even when you know it isn’t true.
A sadist, it gets its pleasure from seeing you go through such agonizing pain day after day. Anxiety loves to see you suffer, and it has a few phrases it loves to use.
It knows exactly what to say to trip the wire or flip the switch in your head to send you into a spiraling circle. It’s not the monster in your closet. It’s worse.
Every time you try to make things better, you’re only going to make them worse. *waits* See, I told you.
People have it worse than you, why are you complaining?
You’re just like the exes. I can’t believe you actually thought you were better than them.
You’re a burden.
You don’t deserve to be loved.
No one actually WANTS to be there for you.
When one little thing goes wrong, I’m going to make you believe that you messed up in the worst way possible.
You made a mistake? Ha ha ha! You’ll never be good enough for them.
You aren’t important.
You aren’t worth anything.
I asked other writers to share what anxiety tells them.
There are many things anxiety can affect a person. It can range from how you think about how you act, etc.
An example of what anxiety can do is that it can easily make an outgoing individual someone socially incapable of fitting in sometimes, you know?
I would describe myself as outgoing and bright and that I radiate this really chill vibe. However, that’s only if I know the people or at least one person in the room.
When I’m sitting in a room with no one I know, in a situation I’m not totally comfortable in, I’m a different person and it’s not because I want to be.
The “monster” kind of tells me to stay quiet. To not join the conversation because I see it carries on easily without me, because everyone already knows each other and that me joining the convo would kind of be a burden.
So I just sit there and watch everything unfold and watch the conversation carry out. I’ll try to find a conversation where I can jump but I get too nervous that what I say isn’t good enough.
My monster I call the dark place; when my anxiety and depression kicks in. It never goes away.
It’s like this monster is sitting on my shoulder, talking in my ear saying:
“You know that you don’t have any real friends. They're just pretending to like you.”
“Why should you study? You’re going to fail anyway.”
“If you talk to your professor, he’s just going to know how stupid you are.”
“Oh, you got a promotion? You’re going to f*ck it up.”
“Don’t call your mom again. She’s sick of you.”
“He’s just pretending to love you.”
My monster is suffocating. I constantly feel like I can’t breathe. Like I’m being held under water. My monster tells me no one will ever love me.
“You can’t do it.”
Feeling like you’re fighting to stay above the water. Feeling like you’re going to die but you don’t want to.
Anxiety tells me that nobody likes me. Everyone is mad at me. Something’s wrong with me because I’m never good enough.
Everyone is punishing me for something I did, and I have to figure out what I did and say I’m sorry so they’ll like me again.
That girl is laughing at me.
My brother didn’t say “love you” when he hung up because he’s mad at me.
My roommate didn’t say hi when she walked in and because I’m a piece of sh*t.
Mom didn’t answer the phone because I did something wrong.
My boyfriend didn’t answer my question because he’s angry with me.
Anxiety also makes me feel like I’m spiraling.
“Everyone’s mad at you, and you can’t do anything about it because look at the list of things you have to do.”
I feel out of control with my life and I feel it slipping down the drain. Luckily, my medication makes the spiraling stop. But I can’t stop thinking everyone is always mad at me.
You feel like the world is looking at you, looking down on everything you’ve done or anything you’re trying to achieve.
You make one mistake, and you think about it all day. Wondering if that person is still mad at you, what you could have done differently, all completely irrelevant to a minor mistake.
I have “bad nights” with my monster. Sleepless nights, that turn into dreadful mornings going to school or work.
I never stop thinking about everything I’ve done wrong or every wrong thing I could have said.
During my bad nights, I get so worked up and need to release my thoughts and feelings, so I turn to writing. I have a word doc on my laptop titled “The Stories I Will Never Tell” because…
My monster has made me feel like I am crazy. Has made me feel as if no one cares about me and my thoughts and feelings.
My monster has mainly cut people out of my life just because I said one thing wrong or think that I did something wrong.
My monster keeps me quiet because I feel like something is wrong with me.
It will never stop talking. Anxiety says...