As someone with post-traumatic stress, I've experienced a good deal of anxiety, wound tightness and being easily startled. But with age, I see anxiety less as a threat and more as a thermometer telling me my temperature has changed.
It would be a total lie to say I welcome or enjoy anxiety. Because. No. I do not. But I am grateful to what anxiety is attempting. I wrote about my own changing relationship with anxiety for Psych Central.
Here's an excerpt:
"I refuse to hate you. I’m not going to fight, scream or even resist, though that’s my knee-jerk reaction to you. Honestly, I greet you like a chirping alarm waking me from a deep sleep at 3 a.m.
I’m annoyed, afraid and enraged. Terror slips in whenever I feel threatened, and anxiety you do scare me. You never arrive with flowers or smiles or when everything is great.
Ever.
You don’t call to tell me you are on your way. You show up at my door with bags and bags like you might never leave. It makes it hard for me to breath.
You only come when the house is a mess and I’m feeling vulnerable." Read more
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