It came back.

So after a few months of great improvement my anxiety got worse again in February. I could have updated sooner on here, but writing it down makes it too real. I’ve still been using all the coping mechanisms and things aren’t as bad as they were a few months ago (when I was in a very dark place) but I still long for the joy I was experiencing in December and January. First thing in the morning is my worst time of day nearly invariably. I wake up with an intense feeling of dread in my abdomen pulling me down making it so hard to get out of bed as I just want to hide away. I do get up though, I have to for my little girl. I wonder if I didn’t have my daughter if I’d just lie in bed for hours not wanting to face the day. It’s not really the day I want to hide from though, it’s myself, the anxiety, but I can’t hide from myself.

Some of my friends remarked that they thought I was doing better. Unintentionally I hide how anxious I’m feeling. I don’t want to let it show because I hate it, I hate how it robs me of joy. It’s not that I purposefully try to hide it from my family and friends, it’s because by trying to behave as if it’s not there I think I feel like I stop it consuming me totally. I don’t think this is an entirely bad thing, if I let anxiety dominate how I behave I don’t think I’d ever get up or go out, but I think it would be better if those who knew me really realised how I feel. It’s very hard to explain but I’ll try. I feel on red alert and scared every second of the day. The intensity of the fear fluctuates but it’s always there, a monkey on my back that I can never shift. The fear is the first thing I feel in the mornings and before I go to sleep I dread the morning coming as I know it’s going to be worse when I wake up. I definitely experience what in CBT terms we describe as “fear of fear”. I’m frightened of my anxiety. I know it’s not going to kill me but I dread it getting worse as I hate how much I suffer. It feels so dreadful. I want to get back to how I was in December and January but I don’t know how, and if I’m honest at the moment it feels out of reach. I’m stuck in a strange place of on the one hand trying to accept my anxiety and on the other longing, striving and desperately hoping for a nice long calm period like I had for a few months last winter.

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