Believe it or not, I think I’m suffering from some anxiety. Actually, I think I’ve struggled with anxiety my whole life, but only recently has it started to effect my body as well as my mind.
My heart pounds daily. Too hard, I feel. Either I’m a statistic and will die shortly of heart disease or it’s a sympton of anxiety. That is my diagnosis. I can lay down on my bed and see the pulse of my heart through the fabric of my shirt. Obviously, I have to concentrate to see it, but the fact that I can see it doesn’t seem right.
Money-issues. My upcoming trip. The loneliness I’ve been having*. I strongly believe it’s all adding up to one mega case of anxiety. Not depression, no no no. But a definite case of anxiety.
For the first time in my life, I’m starting to wonder if I should talk to someone about it. Perhaps the day has come when my pride and so-called “self strength” has caved. Or maybe I’ve always been a few pillars short from a sound foundation and only now allowing people to help carry the load. At this point, I’m really not sure.
*Happy flipping Valentine’s Day. I completely forgot!