If I could summarize the past few years in a single word, it would be denial. Denial that I had mental health issues. Denial that I needed help. Denial that people cared about whether or not I found help. I got used to being fine. The funny thing about being fine is that it isn’t actually fine.

Do you ever have a thought so many times that it becomes normalized? That’s how I felt about my anxiety. I spent every single day asking myself the same things: Why does my heart beat faster every time I make a decision? Why do I stop breathing when I make a mistake? Why do I long to be alone but can never handle being alone with my thoughts? Why can’t I sleep through the night? I asked myself these questions so many times that they became normalized. In a sense, I never started and I never stopped looking for answers.

When I first started the counseling process, I was hurting. I was hurting because of a past that caused me to have so much anxiety and hurting even more because no one bothered to ask me what was wrong. Then I realized that the reason why people weren’t asking was because I never shared. I wasn’t sharing with my body, my face, or my words that something was wrong. I expected people to read my mind and got frustrated when they didn’t. Then I convinced myself that they didn’t care and welded the door shut.

If you have anxiety, maybe you went through the same process. Each experience is different and I hope that yours includes much less denial than mine. However, it is mine to take ownership of and that is what I’ve been trying to do. For those of you who have a friend that suffers from anxiety, my goal is to help paint a picture of what that feels like.

When I think of my own anxiety, I think of pressure. Throughout the day, every little thing adds up. Every unexpected issue, every unexpected task, every unexpected mistake. They add up until it feels like sandbag after sandbag has been placed on my chest and I can’t hold any more. A common reaction that I get is that I’m “just overreacting” to whatever is going on. No three words have ever made me feel so small.

From the moment I wake up until the moment I go to sleep, my brain is turned on. From the moment I go to sleep until the moment I wake up, my brain is turned on. To say that I’m thinking all the time makes it seem like a choice even though I never decide. When I explain this to other people, they say that it’s just stress. Believe your friends when they say that it’s not stress. Stress is wondering about whether or not you’ll ever get a full night’s sleep.

Sometimes I’ll tell people that I want space and then text them five minutes later asking to hang out. This is because five minutes alone with myself is enough. When I’m with people, my worries and anxieties get put on the shelf for later. When I’m alone, I can’t stop thinking about them. Hating this so much has overridden my introverted tendencies and made me an extrovert by force. If you have a friend like this, be patient. Knock on the door when they need you and wait outside when they don’t.

Urgency is an emotion for me. I know that it normally isn’t classified as such, but when you feel it all the time, that’s what it becomes. I feel an urgency to always be walking somewhere or working on something. This is because I have to schedule myself from sun up until sundown because I feel lost when I’m idle. And by lost, I don’t mean bored. I mean genuinely lost because productivity is how myself and so many others cope. Productivity is the place I pour myself into.

Because there is so much in my day that I cannot control, I seek it whenever I can. Having things I can control keep me grounded. They also make me feel like I haven’t completely surrendered. Unfortunately, when my plans are changed or are broken, it makes me panic. No matter how big or small, something that seemed foolproof has slipped out from under me. I have been asked countless times why planning is so important to me and never have an answer. Anxiety is my answer.

So, now you know. Normally at the end of my articles, I apologize for being too blunt or too detailed. I’m not going to do that this time because I’m not sorry. If you are someone that struggles with anxiety, I hope you know that no one has the right to make you feel small. You are not small. You are resilient. Brave. Patient. Strong. If you are a friend of someone that struggles with anxiety, I hope you know that they are special. While their struggle might be challenging, it makes them who they are and that is a beautiful person.