It’s amazing, the strength of the hand. It’s amazing what people can do. It’s amazing what people can build and equally, it’s amazing what stands or what falls or what we can create or destroy and lay to waste.
It is amazing how infinite we are and at the same time, we are our thoughts. Thus, it is amazing how unaware we are – about us, about the way we are, about our worth, our beauty, our abilities. Above all, it is amazing how unaware we are of our ability to rise above or endure.
We are incredible to say the least; yet, we are nothing more than who we believe. Therefore, we can be limited. We can be lost. We can be hopeless or we can recover and stand tall again.
There isn’t much between us; the words we use, the fights, the wars, or the world, which I suppose we’d rather live in – yet, we don’t. It isn’t much for us to stop or start or go back and forth; yet, we go back and forth and tussle with fear or give in to what Shakespeare most accurately described as the “misshapen chaos” in our mind, which only becomes worse.
We hustle and we run. We wish. We think and we want and yet, there are factors all around us. There are factors beyond our control, there are stressors and anxieties and next, the world sinks into a crazy dismay that magnifies and amplifies. Then here it comes. Then it hits. The attack.
No one else gets it because no one else feels it. If they do, none of that matters because at the moment, it is all you. No one else is in the seat with you. Every nerve is on point.
Ideas move to catastrophe and the body responds. The heart pounds. The stomach turns as the ideas churn in your head and suddenly, it’s like . . . the entire world is about to fall apart. At the end, there you are, vulnerable and uncovered, shamed, humiliated, unsafe, destroyed and, most of all, unwanted.
It doesn’t matter what anyone says or tells you. It doesn’t matter how smart you are or how talented. It doesn’t matter what you can build or what you create because in the midst, nothing seems to hold together. Everything is falling apart and in the end, we come apart at the seams.
No one gets it. At least, not really. Even if they do (or say they do) it doesn’t seem possible that anyone could know what it feels like because if they understood, they wouldn’t say what they say.
(Or would they?)
Welcome to the world of anxiety attacks. . .
Welcome to the ideas of misunderstanding. . .
Welcome to the lonesomeness, turned inwards. . .
Welcome to an unintentional self-centeredness that moves on consecutively in a thousand different ways and, above all, welcome to the worries of the ego in which we are afraid that we will be seen and noticed and above all else; we will be recognized as unworthy.
They say these moments pass. They say the storms can’t last forever. the sun has to come out at some point, right?
They say this too shall pass and that we have to give it a second. Just give it a minute and let the moment pass. They say not to let ourselves be worked up,
“Don’t think about it.”
It’s that simple.
I can see it coming. I can feel it. It’s like a storm or at least the threat of one and it’s coming from the distance, which brings on a need to find shelter from the storm. You want to find safety because you know it’s going to hit. You know something is coming and as the clouds come in, the threat gets bigger. The anxiety churns and the fears grow.
It’s unsafe. We’re unsafe. We’re vulnerable and at risk.
This is an idea that builds and a pressure that becomes both insurmountable and inconsolable. There is no logic. There is no plan or strategy. Emotions take over and the redline aspects of our thinking have become catastrophized into the worst possible outcomes.
No one asks for this. No one at any point in their life waited and stood on line to have this be part of their personality.
No one ever asked to be infinitely blind of themselves or their ability. Yet, it’s amazing because people are truly capable of so many things.
We can make someone smile or make them laugh and feel better; yet, we can’t do this for ourselves. Sometimes, it seems like we can’t do anything for ourselves.
I have spoken with people who live with social anxiety disorders. Some have similar details but all are unique in their own way.
It’s all inward though. It’s all in the mind. This is us, folding in on ourselves, vulnerable, alone and painfully unaware that regardless of what we see in the mirror – we are beautiful too. Isn’t that what we want?
To be beautiful – to be wanted, included, or to be happily connected without the threat that suddenly, we will be ultimately detached and shamefully alone.
It’s crazy to call this self-absorbed but it is. I am.
We’re absorbed by the idea of “self” and sinking to the ideas in our head.
This is like trying to run away from something in a dream and your legs don’t seem to work.
Or, it’s like drowning in slow motion, except, nothing is slow and everything is happening at once in real time; and while cognizant, all you can do is see yourself drown in an emotional quicksand that has no bottom.
They tell you to breathe . . .
And I get it. At the moment, nothing works.
Thoughts come at you, one after another.
No one gets it and I’m not saying that I do either. However, what I am saying is that perhaps we are not as alone as circumstances would imply.
Talk about it. Find someone who relates and let this be a conversation that helps you. Otherwise, this can be just more of the same. If you live with anxiety disorder – nobody wants more of the same. We all want to feel better. We simply need to find out how. We need to find ways to retain information in a way that we can understand. It may not be a cure but I swear with all of my heart; it’s better than nothing.