It’s bright and sunny outside, and a hurricane of anxiety has hit my brain with some mild chances of hysteria. My head feels like someone’s got a blender up there and is whipping up some brain smoothie. Not fun.
I want to tell you that I’m handling it, that I’ve been calm and composed and haven’t let the anxiety monster drag me down to his dark lair. I want to say that I used ancient Asian meditation techniques to remain zen. But in all honesty, I feel like ripping my hair out and crying my eyes out on my bathroom floor.
The anxiety is pushing me down to that pit I know so well, but I’m hanging on to the edge with my pinky fingers. That’s the truth. What I want is to climb out and run far, far away from it. What seems so much easier to do is…
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