Do you ever sit there and wonder why anxiety is something that rears it’s head in the worst possible times? Well for me it’s present alllll the time. It’s not always in the form of worry but in the form of nausea and self doubt and hatred for leaving my house but also for being alone. There is no reason. No in between. No purpose…. Other than to completely debilitate. Sometimes it’s as small as I’m worried about an appointment to as huge as I can’t even leave my house without panic. Sometimes there is no relief. Sometimes I just have to breathe. I can’t explain it. But I hate every minute of it. Was I always this way? Or did I mask it so well I didn’t notice it?
Northern momof3 