Anxiety overload coming through…

I’m Kelly and I’m surprised anyone would ever want to know who I am. No-one cares. No-one seems to check in. Not that I’d deserve or justify people giving me attention. I know I ought to snap out of this dark pit I’ve toppled into, but how? Is it ever too late? I’m too far in,  I’m trapped and smothered by this constant ball of angst. It won’t let me go. Is it just me or does anyone else fret about everything? The words in my head start off fairly coherent but they soon snowball into an unmanageable mess and I can’t fathom out what’s happening. They render me incapable of functioning. They freeze my body and paralyse any hope I have of shaking it off. My weary body yearns to drop to the floor, and my head wants to pop off my shoulders.

The exhaustion is off the scale. You know those Richter scales people use to measure earthquakes, this is what happens to me each time I get anxious or worry. The Richter scale goes boom. I always see it coming, like a ripple turning into a tsunami or a fire that starts off as a pissy little spark. There’s not a thing I can do to quell it and halt it in its tracks. I’m that worn out, I sluggishly go about my days, zombified, I no doubt look a right state. I get the occasional odd look at work. Probably think I’m doped up on some kind of pill. If only. I’m that physically tired but my mind is overactive and relentless with it, it never shuts up.

I’d adore a significant other. I’m entering my thirties and had hoped to be hitched by now and planning a kid or two. But who’d want me? It’s horrific enough worrying about me without the trauma of dealing with insecurities and anxiety around another person. They’d cheat, they’d think I was an imbecile, they’d swiftly come up with reasons to dump me. I can see it now – multiple reasons to end our relationship and hardly any to try save it. The last bloke brave enough to partner with me, I totally ruined it, surprise, surprise. Lasted a matter of weeks and then the rot set in. The ball of angst in the pit of the tummy would fire up wondering why he’d not messaged me, who he was with when he wasn’t with me, what he thought about me. The absolute killer was wondering WHY he wanted to be with me in the first place. That was the straw that broke the camel’s bag. Maybe subconsciously I acted out of sorts and difficult to give him an easy exit. Act like a cow and he’ll run for the hills. It worked.

But I’d like to be someone’s favourite person, to be their shining light, I crave someone who thought of me after a shitty day and their smile would be so wide. I wish with all my heart I could offload. I don’t think everyone at work hates me. Some seem to offer smiles and small talk, making cuppas and offering me a read of their magazine on my lunch break. How would I even start?