Only the beginning

mountain climb

Anxiety can feel like an impossible mountain. One that you have to face and climb every single day. Most trips up to that icy summit will leave you huddled in some imaginary cave in the back of your mind, curled into the fetal position, wondering why you started this expedition in the first place because you’ll never reach the summit and you’ll never be able to find your way back to base camp either, so now you’re stuck in this stupid cave and you might as well concede defeat already and die because this mountain is stupid and impossible and you have no chance of success and it’s all just utterly hopeless. Then you fall asleep and when you wake up you’re back at base camp and you have to start your journey all over again. Every day is a mountain and every new experience is like running into a wild animal, in that you may or may not survive the encounter. But sometimes, when the planets are aligned and the coffee is perfectly brewed and your fairy godmother comes in to give you a magical pat on the back, you find the strength to reach the summit. Those days are wonderful. Those are the days worth waiting for.

Today is not one of those days.

The new year seems to have brought with it a new wave of anxiety. And while I’m still functioning on the outside, on the inside I’m curled up into a ball, shivering, weeping, and refusing to leave my tent at base camp.

This in not the way I wanted to begin this blog… But you’ve got to work with what you have and today I have anxiety… It’ll get better from here, I promise.

 

In the mean time, welcome to whatever this is. I hope that in the future my words will be at least mildly entertaining instead of an awkward string about how my anxiety makes me feel like a mountain climber.

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