Updated: Aug 12
Despite my attempts to make myself comfortable in bed, you end up creeping in at night robbing me of my sleep. Nights with you are intimate but not the pleasurable kind even if you quicken my pulse and cause shortness of breath. Your nightly visits deprive me of my peace and sanity, and the intoxicated bliss only sleep can give. You keep me up at night reminding me of scenarios and situations that happened in the past that could have been better if done in a certain way.
I dread nights and pillow talks with you Anxiety.
You reawaken this gnawing, uneasy, and unsettling feeling that I will never turn out to be a better and improved being because of all my stupid actions, attempts, inadequacies, and sins. All the thoughts you try to put in my mind define how much of a living, breathing failure I am.
Anxiety, why can’t you be encouraging whenever you keep me up at night?
I don’t like your after dark, home visits. You drain out all the energy in me until I become a miserable heap of mess. I hate it when you sap out all the drive and enthusiasm I have for the rest of my waking hours. It makes getting out of bed and interacting with other people so taxing. It’s such a struggle for my feelings and emotions to catch up and reconcile with what’s going on in my head.
You know how much I enjoy the silence and the solitude. But I hate how you have used it against me and drown me in misery. My alone times have now become a battle between attaining relaxation and drowning in sorrows. Thanks a lot.
I dread your midnight visits. But I must thank you for how you have helped shape who I have become. (You really don’t deserve all the credit, so give me some.) Because in my struggles I have learned to continuously practice leaning on my faith and the Truth.
I still don’t want you to continue your nocturnal activities. You deprive me of the little joys of life like having eight hours of sleep, getting to work early, and having a cup of coffee for pleasure’s sake.
You are so unforgiving. You’re such an expert in poking at old wounds that are on the process of healing. You make me become so apathetic and reckless. But despite all these things, I have learned that I can choose to ask for help, speak out, and find people whom I can journey with. I have learned that I have to be gracious and forgiving towards myself in the same way I am with others.
You may rob me of my joy. You may also hijack my hope and drive, but you can never snatch my identity which is anchored in the Truth. There will always be moments when I get discombobulated by all the mess you create but I will have to remind myself that my failures are not permanent. They are just temporary setbacks for me to just slow down, process, and take it all in.
So, until your next visit, let me remind myself that I am a work in progress. I am loved. I am forgiven and redeemed. My identity is not defined by my failures, flaws, and mistakes. I will continue to make peace with my past. I will let myself unravel with the obsessive thoughts that haunt me until I am healed and free.
Dear Anxiety, you have no power over me.
About the Creative
Louella Pader writes to cope, process, and reflect on personal experiences, struggles, and stuff she has to learn and unlearn.