The majority of the time when you come to visit, I hate you. My heart drops. Harsh, but true.
But then at other times, I can see your only looking out for me. And actually, against all my immediate feelings, I wanted to thank you.
You grounded me to a halt when I did recognise I needed to stop. to reflect. You put me in, what felt like, a cage.
This cage. A dark place, just room enough for me to stretch, but not enough air to breathe. You tested me, teased me with freedom at times. Sometimes I stepped outside that cage. And every time I returned to that dark place, I found I had a little more room to breathe. A cooler air. I found I could move my body in ways I never thought possible. I found greenery. I noticed there were others around me, in slightly different dark spaces of their own. We merged and began to work together. I began to see more clearly through those bars of my cage. I realised I carried the key all along.
Sometimes I lose the key, lose that power. I spend a few days in that familiar spot, trying to work out what worked for me before. How I reached that freedom. I know I’ll breathe again. Being inside that cage makes the lightness outside it that little brighter.
Before you, I didn’t fully see what was important. I put my energy into other things that didn’t help me. i realised what was real. i found where there wasn’t money, there was an abundance of love. Where there wasn’t security, there was goals dreams and hope.
And so i thank you anxiety for being, in a way, an overly protective relative. I know you care, you want best for me. Sometimes your right. Sometimes your wrong, but I don’t hold that against you anymore. You can’t have a rainbow without the rain.