Helen's Day - A Diary of An Anxiety Sufferer

As I wake up in the morning, the first thing I feel is a tight knot in my chest. It's a familiar sensation, one that has plagued me for years. Anxiety, like an unwelcome guest, is already present in my mind before I even open my eyes. I reach for my phone on the night stand, and the flood of notifications instantly adds to my sense of unease. The world feels like it's moving too fast, and I struggle to keep up.
As I swing my legs out of bed, my heart starts to race. The weight of the day's responsibilities begins to press down on me, and my mind starts to race with worries. Did I forget something important? What if I can't handle it all today? These thoughts are relentless, and I can feel my palms growing clammy.
I force myself to get up and head to the kitchen. Making breakfast for my children is a daily ritual, but it's also a source of stress. I try to put on a brave face, but the tension in my body is palpable. I shuffle through the cabinets, my hands trembling as I try to pour cereal into their bowls. The simplest tasks can become monumental challenges when anxiety takes hold.
I glance at the clock, and the minutes seem to be ticking away faster than I can keep up. My children, oblivious to my inner turmoil, chatter happily at the kitchen table. I smile and engage in the conversation, trying my best to hide the racing thoughts and pounding heart.
Getting them ready for school is a task that requires a Herculean effort on some days. The rush to find backpacks, ensure they have all their homework and supplies, and get them dressed and out the door feels like a never-ending battle. Anxiety tells me that I'm not doing enough, that I'm failing them somehow. I fight back tears as I zip up jackets and tie shoelaces.
As we finally make our way to school, walking through the neighbourhood, my anxiety peaks again. The thought of facing other parents at the school gates makes my stomach churn. What if they notice something is wrong with me? What if I say the wrong thing or can't keep up with the small talk? I take deep breaths, trying to calm the rising panic.
Arriving at the school, I put on my best smile and make small talk with the other parents. It's a mask I've learned to wear over the years, one that hides the turmoil inside. I desperately want to connect with them, to feel like I belong, but anxiety tells me I don't fit in.
As I watch my children enter the school gates, I feel a mixture of relief and sadness. Another morning survived, but I know that anxiety will be waiting for me when I return home. It's a battle that I face every day, one that leaves me emotionally drained and physically exhausted.
Anxiety may be a constant companion in my life, but I continue to fight it, to push through the fear and uncertainty. For the sake of my children, I carry on, hoping that one day the weight of anxiety will be a little lighter, and I can experience mornings with a sense of calm and confidence.