It looks like the light tapping of your fingers on a desk in a perfect pattern.
It looks like biting your nails till they bleed.
It looks like staring off into space.
It looks like ignoring someone you love.
It looks like leaving a packed room to get some air.
It looks like anger, fear.
It looks like shortness of breathe.
It looks like thoughtfulness.
It looks like tears.
It looks like the “party pooper” or “lightweight” who’s going home early.
It looks like humor.
It looks like tossing and turning in bed.
It looks like nothing.
All the while, on the inside, it feels like chaos, compulsion, uncontrollable energy. It’s fighting to breathe, to think a clear thought, to focus. It feels painful. It feels better to be alone even if it means leaving your friends and what looks like fun. It feels like you could’ve said something better, did something differently. It’s running through your day in your head, questioning every decision you’ve made.
It feels like everything.
Anxiety is real. It’s not something you can just let go or get over. Your feelings are so very valid. It’s also something that we shouldn’t be afraid to talk about or feel judged for. It’s something we should be able to openly talk about so we can help each other overcome it.
It’s not nothing and you aren’t alone.