Anxiety, A Conversation



It’s like a gripping tendril of un-comfortability. The worry at very little or absolutely nothing would not trigger in the sane a lasting ill. For those like myself, a simple sentence from a friend or even a stranger can trigger a slight panic that avalanches into true turmoil. The pensive nature of a mind at rest is a great boon to thinkers and artists alike. But for the paranoid, a still mind can subtlety turn into a terrible hindrance. The change is subtle. At first, it seems as if the condition can be reasoned away. As the seconds turn to minutes the unwavering mind soon envisions scenarios that seem impossible, yet very real to the mad. You try and tell yourself: “There is nothing to worry about”. You repeat this mantra over and over again with each repetition less effective than the last. The more a person fights this sensation, the more it is compounded. A wise sufferer of this condition will eventually force themselves to distract their seemingly uncaring mind by taking up activities that would challenge the ever-flowing processes that an ill brain performs. Art, games, puzzles and the like serve as a suitable crutch to stem the flow of thoughts emanating from a sick soul. But beginning these activities is just as hard as the pain that a person feels during such an attack on the senses. Sadly, most patients will succumb to their illness and resort to medication. Others will feel a flurry of emotion as the mind ebb and flows to and from panic and stability. Thankfully, most attacks go away on their own, leaving temporary scars that continue to fester as the day goes by. If one is lucky, these attacks will happen close to bedtime when no doubt nighttime medications will efficiently render a person unconscious.


Then it starts all over again in the morning.

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