“Well what are you stressed about? What are you worried about?”
9 times out of 10 those are the 2 questions people ask me when I either have an anxiety attack or am struggling with a bout of anxiety.
Last night around 2am I remember my eyes opening and them feeling like they were in the back of my head. The next thing I remember is my heart was racing. Violently racing. I sat up and my hands were shaking. I immediately felt as alone as I’ve ever felt. Alone in a hotel room in Summerlin NV at 2 am having an anxiety attack.
I got up, walked to the bathroom, looked at myself in the mirror and said this…out loud…
“It won’t kill you Carlos. It will leave soon. Just breathe.”
I turned the shower on and sat in the corner of the shower for about 10 minutes. Focusing on my breathing and slowly feeling my heartbeat slowdown. Slowly watching the attack leave.
It’s not because of something I did. It’s not because of something I didn’t do.
It simply is.
And it’s ok.
When I woke up this morning I almost thought I dreamt it… Till I saw my bottle of Paxil in front of the tv. Nope. It was real.
I tell you guys this not for sympathy, but to help some people understand that people like me are no more broken than people like you. Or them.
It is my thorn.
It may or may not ever leave.
I’ve come to grips with that.
But one thing I do know.
Is that it is not ME. It is a small part of me.
When I first had an anxiety attack it felt like my entire story.
Then after some time it felt like a chapter.
Soon after it felt like a page.
And today it feels like a paragraph.
My thorn does not define me.
Your thorn does not define you.