A Meeting With My Anxiety

A Meeting with my Anxiety

I always felt it. Before every test, presentation, confrontation, or for no reason at all. That heavy, debilitating weight in my chest never seemed to leave. I figured it was normal, that every kid felt it. But as I got older, and I became more aware, I started to see that this isn't normal. Ever since then my mind has been circling with questions. Why did I have this odd mutation inside me that created this unwanted friend? Why was it always here? Why won't it leave me alone? I needed answers. 

Since I was a little girl, still clueless to what this feeling was, I was told by every therapist, psychiatrist, and even my parents, to imagine what my anxiety would be as a person. How would it speak, what would its mannerisms be, and what would it use to justify its presence? Until that night, I hadn't been able to do it. That night, when I was sitting in my empty void like room, with my eyelids shut tight, I had a meeting with my anxiety, and it went like this: 

I opened the unsettling hospital white door by its brass knob, my hands stiff with fear. I knew what I was about to do. I felt like a defenseless civilian, confronting the villain of my city. I kept whispering to myself, “It's just a feeling, it's just a feeling…” I stepped across the door frame into what seemed to be a conference room, and my eyes connected with it. This woman was sitting at the far end of the black metal table, hands clasped in front of her. I noticed her glasses, sitting on the very end of her nose, examining me with judgemental eyes. I walked towards the table and sat down at the farthest point from her. A tense feeling flooded my body. It reminded me of a panic attack, I knew that far to well. 

“Hello, it is nice to finally see you in person after all these years, I'm your anxiety.” The voice spoke with a harsh tone, it wasn't wasting any time. I took a gulp, the blockade in my throat settling down, and questions started pouring out of my mouth: 

“Why am I here now, who are you, why have you been tormenting me for all these years?”

“Slow down, why do you always have to talk a million miles a second?” Her eyes rolled back in annoyance as she inched closer to me. 

 “Listen, sweet girl, it's time I finally have you understand why I am here, and why I've been picking on you all this time.” Her body language was terrifying, it felt like I was in a haunted house, always on the edge of my seat, waiting to scream. 

“Listen listen, I know you don't like me, and I only seem to irritate you, but you gotta understand, I do this out of love.” She could tell I wasn't believing her. I sat there, not once making eye contact. 

“Ok if you're not going to listen to me, I'm going to have to show you why I'm here.” She grabbed my hand, at first it was aggressive, but then I felt somewhat comforted. I knew this being, I knew how she would do anything to protect me. She led me out of the door I entered. But instead of it being my room. It was my grandparent's house, specifically my old nursery in the basement closet. It was the same. The giraffe chair, my broken-down crib, and the seashell mobile hanging from the ceiling. I looked down and saw a sleeping baby in the oak crib. It was me. 

“You see this baby? This is the reason I'm here.” 

“But why? What made you choose me? This baby seems perfectly fine.”

“It wasn't that you weren't ok, it was the environment around you that wasn't going to be. You needed me to bring a level of caution to your subconscious. You weren't going to be able to protect yourself”

“But that wasn't your place to decide that!” I spoke with rage that I hadn't felt before.

“Ok ok, maybe this wasn't the best way to convince you. Where else could I take you?”

I cut her off, “I don't need convincing, I just need you to go away,” Tears started building up in my brown eyes, I always hated that I cried so fast. 

“Ok, I have another place to go with you, and you know me, I will always win an argument against you, so there's no need to say no.”

She wrapped her dry hands around my forearm and we walked through the door once again, into what seemed to be woods. They looked so familiar but I couldn't remember. The tall cedar trees, with the crunchy leaves below my feet. And the smell that the cold winds brought beneath my nose made me shiver with nervousness. 

“Do you recognize this place?” The anxiety asked as if it was obvious.

“No, well sort of. It seems so familiar”

She lifted her hand and pointed out to the clearing, I saw a man and a little girl standing. The girl had a short brown bob with bangs straight across, it looked like she did it herself. And the man was short, wearing baggy jeans, and a gray torn-up beanie, with a cigarette in hand. It was me and my dad. A tornado of feelings started forming within me. A mixture of happiness, fear, and worry, suddenly I was that little girl once again. My face was painted with a pale tone, I felt sick. 

“Ah, now you remember. That baby you saw in that crib, was now her. You see, that girl out there wasn't ok. That little girl who was being neglected and torn away from her mom, needed me to alert her that something was wrong.” For a glimpse, I felt a sense of empathy for the anxiety. All she wanted to do was help me. It faded quickly. 

“Things started to get better after that day because I alerted you. You were too little to have the words to advocate for yourself, so I helped you.”

“But looking at me now, I'm no longer that little girl. Why are you still with me? Why can't you just leave me alone?”

“That leads me to my next place. You know things didn't just fix themselves, a new wave of problems occurred after this. Let me show you…”

She gestured for me to follow her as she started walking on top of the dead leaves. We traveled through the door into what looked like my old middle school, Willows Prep. I never wanted to go back to this place. A pit formed in the bottom of my stomach. I can't be here, I can't. My anxiety forced me into Ms. Jiyongs classroom. The grading scale was still tapped on the wall, her scary librarian-like glasses left on the counter, and in the middle of the room was a girl sitting at a desk, face covered by her hands. Her hair was dead at the ends from the hair dye that had rinsed out, and her hands were shaking with nerves. That girl was at her lowest. That teacher made me rethink my entire personality. She made me feel less than everyone else and for the first time in my life, I disliked school with a passion. That teacher somehow figured out how to make my anxiety consume me whole. 

“Why are you bringing me here? You know more than anyone how horrible this place was for me.” My voice was quivering. 

“Let me ask you something, why did you leave this school?”

“Well because of my-” I stopped my sentence because I felt so stupid. “It was because of my anxiety. I left because my anxiety was so bad I could barely get out of bed.” 

“Do you understand now? I was watching you go to this place every day, this place that was debilitating your confidence, tearing you down. I had to increase my presence to push you out of here and find where you are supposed to be.”

I started to speak but she cut me off and dragged me out of the school and back through the door. This time it wasnt a location, but a midnight black void. I somehow was able to have my feet planted firmly on a surface, my mind felt stable. I could see nothing except this blinding light behind me. I turned around, my dirty white sneakers squeaking on the invisible floor, and saw a display of pictures. They were all memories from the past year.

“Do you see all of these? This is all because you left that school. After I pushed you out of there you asked for what you needed, you got a job, you made friends that genuinely care about you, you found a school that you don't dread going to everyday, and you mended your family situation that has never been better.”

An overwhelming feeling of love arose from me. Without questioning it, I ran towards the being and reached out to hug it. A warm feeling melted my heart. 

“Thank you, thank you so much for all you've done for me. I'm sorry that it took me so long to realize it, and I'm sorry I've always been against you.” I started to tear up, my anxiety has been the one thing that  was always consistent throughout my life, I mean it always cared for me. But that is why I needed it to leave. I looked into its eyes, eyes that looked confused at my expression. 

“I'm so grateful for you, but I need you to let me be. I need you to let me figure life out for myself. I can't have you always hanging over my shoulder telling me what's best. I need to have myself back. Please.”

I pleaded to my anxiety, holding onto its hand. All of a sudden a smile came across its face, its cheeks turned rosy and it said: “finally, you're ready.”

It gave me a warm embrace, protecting me one last time. Releasing its arms with a gentle intention, it backed away from the once incapable little girl it found in that broken down oak crib. “Thank you for providing me a home for the past 17 years… truly thank you,” Before I could speak, it was gone. 

I was back in the conference room, this time by myself. I looked around in panic until I saw the door. I took a deep breath, it felt like time froze. I turned the door knob and a gust of wind pushed me into my bedroom. I sat on my bed feeling something I haven't in a while, peace. There was no longer that debilitating feeling, no more intrusive voices in my head, there was nothing. I got up, looked into the mirror, and said: “You're ok, it's all ok.” 

I will always have an ever changing perspective on anxiety. But as of right now, that feeling I once considered an unwanted friend, I now see as a protector. It's something I will forever be grateful for. But at some point, I realized you have to learn things for yourself. This last year I've been slowly navigating my way through that process, and it's been one of the hardest, greatest experiences of my life. Thank you anxiety, for all you've done for me, but it's time to say goodbye. At least for a while.