These Are Actual Conversations I've Had With My Anxiety

These Are Actual Conversations I've Had With My Anxiety

Sometimes you just have to answer that annoying little voice.
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Am I the only person that actually envisions their anxiety as like having a distinct persona? Like my anxiety is that stereotypical mean girl that knows everything and likes to remind you of the things that you can't do! Whether I'm at school or work, my anxiety homegirl is there. She's annoying, she's mean, and this is how I imagine myself standing up to my anxiety.


1. *listening to James Taylor

Me: This is a great day, this is good music, the sun is shining...

Anxiety: Start crying.



Okay so I'm enjoying my day, feeling pretty good with myself, and I'm listening to James Taylor and the music just literally takes over and I start crying... at the library... writing a research paper. Anxiety makes me emotional. Sometimes it just gets you in the feels for no reason at all.


2. Me: I want to rent this book.

Anxiety: But you've never rented at this library before.

Me: You're right.

Anxiety: Muhahahaha.


Yep, my anxiety is at that person that likes to remind you of things you can't do. The stereotypical mean girl of highschool. But when your brain starts doing this, bite back!


3. Anxiety: Hey! Hey you!

Me: Not right now, Anxiety. I'm at the bar.

Anxiety: Remember that time your hair fell out?



Like I said, my anxiety likes to remind me of all the bad things including that time my hair fell out... THANK YOU ANXIETY. THANK YOU. HOW COULD I EVER FORGET?





4. *Me shopping

Anxiety: I mean, yeah. You can buy that dress but what if you lose your job tomorrow?


The conversation then ends as my brain proceeds into a eight-hour scenario in which I convince myself I am fired for no reason at all.


5. Me: Hello, (various names of co-workers, managers, supervisors) am I fired?

Everyone at Work: LOL. What?

Me: Sorry, my anxiety is talking to me again.


This is basically me everyday at work. I even call up there when I'm off to make sure I wasn't fired!



6. * 4 a.m.

Me: My (various organs) hurts.

Anxiety: Hey guess what? Hey guess what? Hey guess what? You are dying LOL. Have fun sleeping!


I then use the bathroom 15 times, Google every disease, and then wake Mom up and ask her if we met the insurance deductible so that I can go to the ER for no reason other than my anxiety told me I was dying.


7. *Googles Putin memes

Me: (uncontrollable laughter)

Anxiety: Did you hear that knock? I bet it is the FBI.


Yeah, my anxiety likes to tell me that I'm getting deported so what else is new?


8. Me: Man, I bet I did really well on that test!

Anxiety: Nah. I bet you failed.


You know when you think you know all the answers and you are pretty confident? Yep. Not me.




Cover Image Credit: Pixabay

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Everything You Will Miss If You Commit Suicide

The world needs you.
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You won't see the sunrise or have your favorite breakfast in the morning.

Instead, your family will mourn the sunrise because it means another day without you.

You will never stay up late talking to your friends or have a bonfire on a summer night.

You won't laugh until you cry again, or dance around and be silly.

You won't go on another adventure. You won't drive around under the moonlight and stars.

They'll miss you. They'll cry.

You won't fight with your siblings only to make up minutes later and laugh about it.

You won't get to interrogate your sister's fiancé when the time comes.

You won't be there to wipe away your mother's tears when she finds out that you're gone.

You won't be able to hug the ones that love you while they're waiting to wake up from the nightmare that had become their reality.

You won't be at your grandparents funeral, speaking about the good things they did in their life.

Instead, they will be at yours.

You won't find your purpose in life, the love of your life, get married or raise a family.

You won't celebrate another Christmas, Easter or birthday.

You won't turn another year older.

You will never see the places you've always dreamed of seeing.

You will not allow yourself the opportunity to get help.

This will be the last sunset you see.

You'll never see the sky change from a bright blue to purples, pinks, oranges, and yellows meshing together over the landscape again.

If the light has left your eyes and all you see is the darkness, know that it can get better. Let yourself get better.

This is what you will miss if you leave the world today.

This is who will care about you when you are gone.

You can change lives. But I hope it's not at the expense of yours.

We care. People care.

Don't let today be the end.

You don't have to live forever sad. You can be happy. It's not wrong to ask for help.

Thank you for staying. Thank you for fighting.

Suicide is a real problem that no one wants to talk about. I'm sure you're no different. But we need to talk about it. There is no difference between being suicidal and committing suicide. If someone tells you they want to kill themselves, do not think they won't do it. Do not just tell them, “Oh you'll be fine." Because when they aren't, you will wonder what you could have done to help. Sit with them however long you need to and tell them it will get better. Talk to them about their problems and tell them there is help. Be the help. Get them assistance. Remind them of all the things they will miss in life.

If you or someone you know is experiencing suicidal thoughts, call the National Suicide Prevention Hotline — 1-800-273-8255

Cover Image Credit: Brittani Norman

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Poetry On Odyssey: Anxiety

Are they listening when I talk? Will they laugh when I talk? Please, just don't ask me to talk.

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As the semester comes to an end, I am finishing up all of my final projects. For English 213, Introduction to Poetry, my final project is to present one of the poems that I workshopped during the semester in a public space. So, for my project, I decided not only to post my poem to Odyssey and advertise the poem by posting pieces of it around different bulletin boards around campus that display the link to the website. So, without further ado, here is my final poetry project:


Anxiety.

I'm listening,
Listening to the buzz of a dial tone
With the receiver in one hand
As I'm biting the already throbbing
Skin around the nails of the other.
I'm trying,
Trying to work up the courage
To press the numbers I need.

Who is going to pick up?
Will they pick up?
Please, just don't pick up.

I'm waiting,
Waiting outside in the cold
With my balled-up hand in mid-air
As sweat lingers on my frostbitten
Forehead that is cold to the touch.
I'm looking,
Looking for the strength
To knock on the door I'm standing at.

Is anyone home?
Should I just go home?
Please, just don't be home.

I'm slouching,
Slouching in my chair
With my head tilted downward
As I'm scratching the raw wound
That never gets the chance to heal.
I'm hoping,
Hoping that no one asks
For my clumsily formed opinion.

Are they listening when I talk?
Will they laugh when I talk?
Please, just don't ask me to talk.

I can't live my life.

I'm rehearsing,
Rehearsing my order
With my menu tightly gripped
As I stutter the words in my head
That echo my past mistakes.
I'm praying,
Praying that I don't forget
Anything that I want to say.

Are they judging my order?
Is there too much to my order?
Please, just don't comment on my order.

I'm keeping,
Keeping my headphones in
With no music playing
As my trembling hand fumbles
With the frayed bottom of my shirt.
I'm wishing,
Wishing that my weird little quirks
Won't be pointed out.

Are they laughing at me?
Should they laugh at me?
Please, just don't laugh at me.

Anxiety.

It's not a way to live.

It's a way to die.

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