Not overwhelmed, not underwhelmed, not even just whelmed.

Today is going to be one of those days I take a break from my typical light-hearted jib jab.

Why? Because there's a real life person that lives under my sarcastic skin, I promise.

A vulnerable and sensitive post.

Oh boy, here she is...

Anxiety. I've got it.

I've got the kind the doctor considers to be moderate to severe.

Moderate on my good days - severe on my worst.

I've got the kind of anxiety that proves to be an every day battle.

Anxiety is a massive bastard. Somedays he even introduces me to his colleague, depression.

It's a battle I didn't even know I faced until I turned 22.

22 is when I realized that getting cut off while driving is not means for a total meltdown on the side of a local highway. 

22 is when I realized that laying in bed at night, mind racing back and forth, panicking about an email box full of mail just wasn't normal. 

22 is when I realized that constantly thinking my house was going to be burglarized while I was sleeping wasn't normal.

22 is when I went and got help. 

Help meaning drugs, if we're being honest.

One drug by the name of Lexapro.

At 22 I began a numbing, empty relationship with a med named Lexapro that lasted for two years.

If you aren't a math buff, as I am certainly not, I'm 25 now and no longer in said relationship.

Why? Well, simply put... "I'd rather be crazy than numb." -My Ty Ty BFF

I am not saying the drugs are bad, because they aren't at all, they simply didn't adjust to my body.

For me the meds took the life out of me. I was empty.

Not sad. Not happy. Not overwhelmed, not underwhelmed, not even just whelmed.

Sure, the insomnia was cured. The panic attacks? They vanished. 

I had absolutely no interest in feeling anything.

I wasn't worried about anything. Ever.

Two years of numbness later.. I went off the meds.

Today? Today I have anxiety attacks regularly.

Anxiety attacks stemming from forgetting my lunch at home all the way to not having my rent check turned in at least 5 days prior to the first when it's due.
I still think there's always someone behind me waiting to attack, I still lay in bed stressing about my Brita pitcher that I forgot to refill.
I still carry around my pepper spray like it's a bomb that will inevitably save me from anything.

Yep, mostly I panic about things I know are silly.

Most nights, even with the help of melatonin, I wake up somewhere around 3am worrying about something. Anything. Could be something as simple as bringing something to the post office the next day.

It's a burden, it's an absolute thorn in my life's side, but at least I am feeling.

My relationship with anxiety is an absolute mind over matter thing.

I try meditating when I can't sleep.

I try taking very deep breaths when I feel overwhelmed. 

I try not letting little things effect how I behave.

I try reminding myself that anything good that can happen will happen.

Somedays are great, somedays are not.

Such is the life of the anxiety sufferer.

At this point in life, I'm happy to be able to feel these struggles.

One day? Well, one day I may be fed up with this anxiety and go back on the numbness train.

Today, I try my hardest to be as whelmed (also see: normal) as humanly possibly.