Wishing for the wrong things

I wake up every morning and say, please let there be a “win” in my inbox. Please let someone, somewhere approve of my work, pick up my clients’ work, validate my existence. Yes, I know I’m going about this the wrong way, inside out. Right now my inside is not strong enough to support my outside. The universe is not cooperating with me.

The anxiety is deep lately. A weight on my chest that makes it hard to breathe. I’m working with a therapist, I’m trying not to panic as it goes on and on. I am telling myself to hold on. It isn’t working. Everything is too close to the surface. I cry a lot. I’m having trouble eating, which is really weird for a person who always has had a problem with overeating to obtain comfort.

I’m afraid it’s too late to be anything in my life. My body keeps sending me panic signals, “I’m drowning, I’m drowning.” I tell myself it’s not true but if you don’t believe you are worth anything, then you don’t believe you can save yourself or that you are worth saving.

I spend hours reading stories of people who lost love, lost houses, lost everything. People who are older, poorer, less healthy. It doesn’t make me feel better, it makes me feel like I’m squandering what’s left, like I’m standing on a beach waiting for the wave to sweep me away. Lately, I’m wanting it to come.

The people who write books about anxiety are all high achievers. Anxiety is a blip in their lives. Anxiety plus depression is like being paralyzed but knowing your feet are on fire. And I haven’t lost my love, or all my money, I’m just gripped with a fear I cannot tame.

The world doesn’t know when your heart is exploding. Nor does it care. We all smile at each other keeping the darkness neatly tucked inside. See my success, don’t see me.

I’ve been asking the universe for the wrong thing. I am not sure what to ask for now except to help me believe I matter to someone enough to keep moving me forward when I no longer matter to myself.

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