My Stories And Secrets

Dear Anxiety.

The Strange Emotion.

I carry my bag downstairs to my bedroom, intending to go to sleep. Somewhere between the top step and the hall to my room, I already had decided that I needed to write. What drives me to change my mind despite a hard day at work and total exhaustion? The darkness.

I am sixteen years old and can hardly bare to be in the dark. I can cover it most of the time, but once in a while, particularly when it's later than I usually go to bed, or when I'm very tired, the fear catches up to me.

Why am I like this? Spending a school year in the class of a teacher who abuses her pupils both verbally and physically does far more damage than most can imagine. Tonight, on my way to my room, I found myself closing every door in the basement, and debating going back upstairs to close those doors too. I mentally reasured myself that all outside doors were locked, and hurried to my room.

Once I got there I did the same thing, drew the curtains shut tightly, locked my bedroom door, and checked the bathroom to be certain it was empty. I even moved the shower curtains to reasure myself. I even debated setting up an empty pop can in front of my bedroom door so I would be certain to awaken if someone were to open it, something I haven't done in almost a year.

Yes, I am not normal. Yes, I hate turning my back to an open door or people. My favorite place to be in a crowd is in a corner with my back to the wall so I can see anyone who approaches. I even hate turning my back to windows at times. But I do not write this for pity.

The simple word 'anxiety' causes many to cringe, knowing the effect this particular emotion has had on many people. While some to turn up their noses, feeling that anyone who is anxious either needs more faith, or deserves the driving feelings of anxiety for something they have done. 

Well here's my response to those who cringe; I understand the reason you cringe, I've done it myself. 'Anxiety' is a dark thing, just as dark as depression, and the two often mix. I know that anxiety can drive a person to kill themselves, and on nights like this, I don't blame them. But we need to rise up and fight these feelings, not just within ourselves, but for our friends too. We need to shake our fists and say "I will not let you win. I will not let you take my friends. Not without a fight."

A simple act of kindness can make an entire day feel lighter, give someone something to look back on with a smile when they go to bed at night. I know these things for a fact. A simple act of kindness has gotten me through some of the worst anxiety attacks.

And my response to the latter; You say "they just don't have enough faith, there's nothing to be anxious over" and I understand this thought too. I used to think the same thing, until I finally found the courage to admit that the shaking in my hands when I'm in crowds or other things, was actually anxiety. The feeling that something is wrong, that's anxiety. The kind of anxiety that I have, and many others have, is called an 'emotional flashback'. In situations that remind you of a bad expirience, the old emotions suddenly fill you again.

And as for "deserving the consiquences for whatever is causing you anxiety"; I think you forget that you too have done wrong things, yet you're not paying the consiquence, at least not in the same way. I don't think anxiety is a punishment for doing wrong, although wrong acts can certainly bring anxiety as well, but it is wrong to assume that anyone deserves something as awfull as anxiety.

Anxiety is not caused just by doing wrong things, but is also caused by being on the receiving end of someone's bad choices. When evil is done to you, it can bring on more anxiety than when you yourself are the one doing evil.

I dream of a day when people will stop treating those with anxiety like lepers, and instead just be gratefull they don't have the same struggles, and be willing to help in any way they can.