Nothing To Do

Anxiety is a pain in the ass.

It’s maddening because it pops up unexpectedly, all the time. It’s also annoying because I pride myself on being a very competent person. I keep telling myself that these things are no big deal, and that I should get over them. That’s why it’s so annoying when of course it just gets worse.

There’s no use reasoning with it, because anxiety itself is irrational fear.

That’s why you just have to let it out sometimes.

If anyone was to look at all the different facial expressions I’ve done in the past twenty minutes, I’m sure that they would think that I am mad.

I can deal with my anxiety usually if I have a schedule. If I know that I’m going to be doing these certain activities from this time to that time, somehow I feel better. I guess it’s because I have this feeling that all of my time is used purposefully? When I have time where I’m not doing anything, my mind gets away from me. I haven’t been able to go to the gym since I’ve been sick. And I don’t have anyone to call. I’m like an angry animal pacing back and forth in its cage.

Except that my cage is really self-built.

It isn’t anyone else’s fault that I’m getting so frustrated over trivial things.

When I eventually realize this, I usually calm down. It’s a waste of energy getting angry at yourself about nothing after all.

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