It’s just time to be ballin’. It’s just time to be happy. Just be happy, honey. Just do it.
Anxiety. It’s something people talk about. The anxiety epidemic of the twenty-first century, it seems. The definition of anxiety was something I only used to associate with the feeling of being overwhelmed, hurried, or under a lot of pressure. Yet I did not consider that what it is that I feel on a normal basis may be what others relate to as anxiety; an uneasiness, rising far above sea level.
This thing called anxiety people talk about and I had not been willing to swallow or consider that what I feel, quite frequently, is exactly that. When it comes on slowly, restlessly, quietly, hiding behind a quite “normal” frame, a quite “normal” demeanor of tact, of “normal” human being-ness. Yet without charm. Without confidence. Without the ability to be. Anxiety is not always seen. In fact, more often than not, it hides well. Deeply chaotic. Hot with uncertainty. A volcano, of which may never abrupt, but constantly bubbles beneath the surface.
Anxiety. It stirs around underneath, beneath the skin, all out of sorts, all out of fashion, swirling around with no where to go, behind the bitten nails, behind the nervously tossed hair, behind the eyes that lack making contact, behind the hands that lack the ability to reach out to another person, place, or mode of activity. Lacking to reach out, but also lacking to reach in, unable to grab a hold of anything, unable to grab a hold of me; just swishing around like that, how dare you intrude and erode like that you anxious bitch; scratching on my heart, my lungs, my inner most being.
I didn’t associate this very thing often defined as anxiety as being exactly that. Because of course, in a naïve personal perception I may have thought I was the exception. I may have thought, that’s not me, what I deal with is strictly personal to me. How wrong this is to think like this. This would be called the Caged Life, if one were to live like this; trapped in self pity, trapped in the perception that only their experience is unique to them and that no one else goes through it the same, if not similarly. There is power in community. Power in understanding. Power in recognizing the sameness we inhibit with one another.