Dear Anxiety,
We need to talk.
I understand that you worry; that’s what you do. But, I can guarantee you that your worry, which then turns into our worry, is unfounded. A cop will not pull us over for going two miles per hour over the speed limit. No, our tire will not pop from driving over a rock. We’re leaving half an hour early; we’re not going to be late. The person on the other end of the phone isn’t judging us. Making a call to change an appointment isn’t the end of the world. Being a minute late to work doesn’t mean that we’ll be fired. Sleeping in five minutes on our day off won’t make our parents hate us. People love us and care about our well-being; don’t try to tell me otherwise. You. Do. Not. Need. To. Worry.
I understand that life is scary, that people are scary, that everything seems so scary to you. Phone calls are terrifying in your eyes. Driving to new places is nerve-wracking to you. Missing a turn is equal to disaster in your eyes. You insist on having the alarm set an hour before it needs to be set. Being five minutes early is late to you. All of your worries rub off onto me, making me the person who is chronically fifteen minutes early to work, the person who is wary of driving to new places, the person who loathes making phone calls to the doctor or dentist. Don't get me wrong, I don’t mind being early to places — I can always sit in my car until my shift starts — but I could do without the aversion to phones, new places, and new people.
I understand that you’re not the easiest to live with, Anxiety. You worm your way into my thoughts and you take over. You tell me that everything is going to blow up in my face, that nothing is okay, that I'm not deserving of love or acceptance. I’m telling you now that you’re wrong on every account. Nothing is going to blow up in my face. I have to take risks in order to succeed — so what if they don’t all work out? I’m not going to lie and say that everything is okay, but most things are. I know what I want to do, and I have an idea of how to get there. It’ll just take some time. And, most importantly, I do deserve love and acceptance for who I am.
I understand that you’re a part of me, and you always will be. But, this doesn’t mean that you’re allowed to rule my life. I think we’ve made some progress on this front, through therapy and medication. I’m not trying to shut you out or cut you out of my life completely — I doubt that that could even happen with how entwined we are. I’m just saying that you need to let me take a step back and think before you start to worry. Let me take a couple of breaths.
Everything will be okay. I promise.
