Anxiety Confession

Anxiety meltdowns are serious buiz guys.


Sorry about that, I got caught in the shorthand of my friends for a minute. All of us are a little “broken” in one way or another, that’s why we get along so well. We know what it’s like to have weird boundaries and respect them. Some of us have a diagnosis, some of us have “quirks”. Those without diagnosis’s should probably  should have.

We exist in this group as peers so we all have a safe place to hide when reality gets too real and we don’t want to be alone, and people to hold us accountable on our shit and help encourage us to grow. It’s nice. I love my little group of weirdos.

I’m doing this post about anxiety because it’s something I struggle with. When I get overwhelmed I shut down or get angry and slam the kitchen cupboards until they stay the fuck closed. But through time and practice, lists and systems getting through a day isn’t really an issue.

I guess it really was a year or so ago though.

One of my friends brought up something that he and Noah have a vivid memory of, but is a complete blank spot in my memory. Seriously, I know this thing happened, but I couldn’t visualize it like the rest of my memories.

To hear them tell, I was in full meltdown mode, Sobbing, babbling, scrubbing counters, swearing, and muttering. Experience has taught Noah that I get rather nasty if you interrupt an episode, so he was sitting aside waiting to make me feel better as I calmed down.

Our friend who had not had these experiences with me eventually decided he couldn’t in good conscience let me carry on like this anymore. So he marches into the kitchen, uses his “stern” voice to distract me, and I apparently start bawling about how “worthless” I am or how I was a “failure”.

Instead of repeating the “no you’re not” litany to me over and over and trying to convince me that I was delusional he sits me down and tells Noah and I about “failure.”

About being twenty five and living with his dad, no job, no prospects. “Ready to eat a fuckin bullet when you two call and offer me a room. You guys saved my life, you could never be a failure.”

This is the most important moment in our friendship, and I can’t remember a single moment of it. But because of him, and this moment, I’ve been able to get my anxiety under control. I haven’t had an episode (aside from the moving in to the new place when I couldn’t catch my breath, but at least I didn’t feel awful about myself).

So the moral of the story:

Always let people know how much they matter to you. Always. 


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