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  • ZahliaBreaux

Here we go again...

...with the "they don't understand me" rubbish, but that's why I'm here. To help you.


Most of the time, I am an anxious person. Like, really anxious. I like to think that I wear a fairly unyielding mask to disguise it… most of the time.


I do things with haste, I seem a little brash in conversation, and I cannot fucking stand small talk. These are just a few things I deal with daily, just at work. And yes, people tend to think I’m a bitch for it. Oh well, I put up. When I get home, I peel off the façade and I fall into the reclusive habit of ignoring texts, avoiding phone calls, and putting off responsibilities to the very last moment.


When I do feel an anxiety attack coming on, I do everything I can to avoid it. It’s like waiting for a storm to pass. You see the dark clouds; you watch them roll closer. The thunder starts… and then the lightning strikes.


But what happens when the storm passes? I’m left to pick up the pieces. I’m responsible for the damage and debris, and now it’s my mess to clean. When I do calm down, I feel embarrassed, humiliated, and small. I can’t stand the idea of feeling insignificant and when my own psyche lets me down, I feel fucking small.


But life doesn’t stop for anxiety. I still have to regroup, soothe the facial puffiness, and keep on keeping on. A lot of people ask me, “are you okay?” or “are you tired? You look exhausted…” which, by the way, is never something you should say to someone who deals with anxiety and depression.


Oh, gee, thanks. It’s this new line I’m wearing, Depreción: Exhaustié.


If you know someone who you even suspect might be dealing with anxiety, please don’t tell them to calm down. Please don’t tell them to change their viewpoint.


There’s a very real difference between pessimism and depression.

There’s a very real difference between nerves and anxiety.


I don’t expect this post to make you guys see me as any less of a bitch. At least, I would hope not. 😉


I just want you guys to understand where I’m coming from. And no, not everyone necessarily has a direct source regarding their anxiety. Just reach out, lend a listening ear (and actually listen, don’t steal the conversation because that shit is an ugly-ass personality trait) and don’t judge someone based off their anxiety. Just ask yourself before you make that decision:


would you judge someone based off their physical ailments?


And so to bed,

Zahlia Breaux