Every time I begin to write this post, I close the laptop, and with a churning stomach I promise to tackle it later. I find therapy and comfort in writing and articulating my emotions yet for some reason this post, this particular post, I haven’t been able to bring myself to. I don’t know how to articulate what this new monster is, because I have yet to understand it. I have yet to get a hold on it and fully grasp it. Although my ulcerative colitis slipped through my hands, I always felt I had an understanding of what was going on. But this new little pest does not live in my gut. It lives in my head and my hands can’t reach it.
But I’m going to try and lay out a road map of what’s going on. Because, like IBD, I know others struggle with this monster too. I’m going to try and put it into words for my own comfort because every post I write brings some sort of relief in the form of connectivity between myself and readers. And if anyone has some sort of relatable tale, I welcome it with open arms. I warn you though, I have no guidelines for this post and I’m letting my fingers lead the way. I don’t know where it’s going to go so I can’t promise my best work, but I can promise you honesty and hopefully some sort of positivity in a dark cloudy mind.
Anxiety. My new monster.