I don’t know – Anxiety poem

Written while blubbing my eyes out and surrounded by a pile of tissues – anxiety venting:

I don’t know,

I don’t know,

I don’t know,

If it’s them or if it’s me,

it’s this damned bloody stress and anxiety,

should I continue, should I not,

whose writing this story, I need to know the plot,

I’m new to this so I don’t know,

which things to fight and which lines to toe,

it’s overwhelming to not know,

exactly who or what is responsible for this woe,

am I depressed,

am I stressed,

is it general anxiety, is it social anxiety,

is it a person who is in authority,

all of the above it could be,

oh ain’t I lucky to be me,

I don’t know,

I don’t know,

what I am supposed to do,

I know I shouldn’t be rushing to the loo,

shouldn’t be panicking like I do,

shouldn’t be heavy sighing,

everything shouldn’t trigger crying,

Shouldn’t be struggling to keep on top,

heart palpitations, anger, sickness, frustration, needs to stop,

tissue companies must be having a roaring success,

I just wish I could get out of this mess,

a doctors visit is anxiety hell,

although its already a place I feel I sometimes dwell,

phone us they say,

yeah ‘cos that will take the pain away,

it’s one to one which seems to cause the most pain,

do I run or do I remain,

nobody else knows what goes on in your head,

‘That’s a good thing’ everybody says,

but if I could transfer it,

for even a minute,

they would be able to say if I am strong or weak,

normal or a freak,

could they cope for a day or even a week?

with this constant poisonous leak,

do things, they say,

that takes the pain away,

I do, I feel better,

but its not resolved, so its back later in the day,

all that does is suppress and hide,

which you then hold onto until it bubbles up inside,

my partner had Aspergers which fine,

but means he can’t always see whats going on in my mind,

‘are you OK?’ he asks innocently enough,

‘well that’s difficult to quantify with all this stuff’

 

 

 

 

 

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2 thoughts on “I don’t know – Anxiety poem

  1. Hey Jennifer. Driftwood art connected us at some point; and as a driftwood I am writing you now…(cause I kinda know how it feels where you are…)

    A driftwood that is washed ashore by the waves in front of your feet. Now, many would just ignore it, others maybe gather it for a beach fire. But you took it and with your creativity gave it a second life, a new purpose. Why am I telling you this? Maybe because both you and I do that as we try to balance our “I don’t know” , “Why”, “if its them or if its me”…people may only see the artistic expression but underneath lies a battleground…

    And yes more often than I would like to admit, anxiety/depression is surrounding me. But at the same time is what leads me to my creative path.
    Everyone is using labels on people so they can feel secure; well, I say *&%k that. I won’t make it easy for them!

    I will try to find a way to balance this so that it won’t overwhelm me. Science is tremendously ignorant of the mind, the brain and how to affect them in a positive way.

    I will try…when I die I want to know that I’ve tried…and till then “…my mood, my sadness, my bouts of anxiety, are a second source of intelligence – perhaps even the first source.” Nassim Nicholas Taleb

    How we can tap into that source of intelligence positively I think is a highly personal , unique journey.

    But sometimes it helps to know that we are not alone.

    I am finishing this with the title of the post I was ready to write before I saw yours:
    “We often overestimate what we can do in a day
    and underestimate what we can do in a lifetime.”

    Sincerely yours.

  2. Many thanks for your message, sorry I haven’t replied sooner I took the plunge and ended what was causing me so much pain and am now in a much better place. Many thanks for your lovely words and I appreciate the time it took you to stop and write them. To future happiness šŸ™‚

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