You’d think to look at me that my physical disability is the most debilitating part of my existence. After all I can’t feed myself, walk, or even bathe independently. I wake up each morning and do nothing but wait all day. But trust me when I say, all this pales in the face of anxiety. I’m not talking about feelings of anxiousness; no that’s a human experience which serves a purpose. I’m talking about finding breathing becomes impossible, your vision Narrows and darkens, fear and anxiousness combine in your chest to create a ball of al consuming darkness, your brain shuts off and your ears are filled with ringing that screams the words, surely I’m dying.
It’s horrific and terrifying to experience true anxiety. It makes physical discomfort and disability seem insignificant.
The only thing that gets through to me is arms wrapped tightly around me, they let me know I’m not alone because all other senses have disengaged, but strong arms I can feel, they anchor me back to reality. This isn’t death, it’s mostly in my head, I’m in no real danger, breatheĀ in breathe out.


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